Vtaf&fisftme 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


What's  -  His  -  Name 


BY   THE   SAME   AUTHOR 


GRAUSTARK 

CASTLE  CRANEYCROW 

BREWSTER'S  MILLIONS 

THE  SHERRODS 

THE  DAY  OF  THE  DOG 

BEVERLY  OF  GRAUSTARK 

THE  PURPLE  PARASOL 

NEDRA 

COWARDICE  COURT 

JANE  CABLE 

THE  FLYERS 

THE  DAUGHTER  OF  ANDERSON  CROW 

THE  HUSBANDS  OF  EDITH 

THE  MAN  FROM  BRODNEY'S 

THE  ALTERNATIVE 

TRUXTON  KING 

THE  BUTTERFLY  MAN 

THE  ROSE  IN  THE  RING 


Copyright,  1911.  l-y  I  todd.  Mead  X-  Company 


Nellie  Duluth 


WhatVHis-Name 


By 


GEORGE  BARR  McCUTCHEON 


WITH     ILLUSTRATIONS     BY 

HARRISON  FISHER 


NEW  YORK 
DODD,    MEAD   AND   COMPANY 

1911 


COPYRIGHT,  1910, 1911 

BY 

GEORGE  BARR  McCUTCHEON 


Published  March,  1911 


P5 

3525 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGB 

I  OUR  HEEO         ......         l 

II  Miss  NELLIE  DULUTH       .        .        .        .31 

III  MB.  FAIRFAX 71 

IV  LUNCHEON 95 

V  CHRISTMAS          ....                 .124 

VI     THE  REVOLVER          .         .         .        .  150 

VII     THE  LAWYER    .....  176 

VIII    BLAKEVILLE       .  201 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Nellie  Duluth Frontispiece 

FACING  PAGE 

Fairfax  was  sitting  on  a  trunk,  a  satisfied  smile  on 

his  lips 66 

Phoebe 134 

He  stopped,  aghast,  petrified 236 


What's -His -Name 


CHAPTER  I 

OUR   HERO 

Two  men  were  standing  in  front  of  the  Empire 
Theatre  on  Broadway,  at  the  outer  edge  of  the 
sidewalk,  amiably  discussing  themselves  in  the 
first  person  singular.  It  was  late  in  Septem 
ber  and  somewhat  early  in  the  day  for  actors 
to  be  abroad,  a  circumstance  which  invites 
speculation.  Attention  to  their  conversation, 
which  was  marked  by  the  habitual  humility, 
would  have  convinced  the  listener  (who  is  al 
ways  welcome)  that  both  had  enjoyed  a  suc 
cessful  season  on  the  road,  although  closing 
somewhat  prematurely  on  account  of  miserable 
booking,  and  that  both  had  received  splendid 
"  notices  "  in  every  town  visited. 

These  two  loiterers  serve  a  single  purpose  in 
this  tale — they  draw  your  attention  to  the  prin 
cipal  character,  to  the  person  who  plays  the 
title  role,  so  to  speak,  and  then,  having  done  so, 
sink  back  into  an  oblivion  from  which  it  is  quite 
unnecessary  to  retrieve  them. 

The  younger  of  the  two  players  was  in  the 


2  WHAT'S-HIS-NAME 

act  of  lighting  a  cigarette,  considerately  ten 
dered  by  the  older,  when  his  gaze  fell  upon  the 
figure  of  the  approaching  hero.  He  hesitated 
for  a  moment,  squinting  his  eyes  reflectively 
as  if  to  make  sure  of  both  vision  and  memory 
before  committing  himself  to  the  declaration 
that  was  to  follow. 

"  See  that  fellow  there?  The  little  chap  with 
his  hands  in  his  pockets?  " 

The  other  permitted  a  vague,  indifferent 
glance  to  enter  the  throng  of  pedestrians, 
plainly  showing  that  he  did  not  see  the  person 
indicated.  (Please  note  this  proof  of  the  per 
son's  qualifications  as  a  hero.) 

"  The  fellow  in  front  of  Browne's,"  added 
the  first  speaker,  so  eagerly  that  his  friend  tried 
once  more  and  succeeded. 

"  What  of  him?  "  he  demanded,  unim 
pressed. 

"  That  is  What's-His-Name,  Nellie  Duluth's 
husband. ' ' 

The  friend's  stare  was  prolonged  and  in 
credulous. 

"  That?  " 

"  Yes.  That's  the  fair  Nellie's  anchor. 
Isn't  he  a  wonder?  " 


OUR  HERO  3 

The  object  of  these  remarks  passed  slowly 
in  front  of  them  and  soon  was  lost  in  the  crowd. 
Now  that  we  know  who  he  is  we  will  say  thank 
you  to  the  obliging  Thespian  and  be  off  up 
Broadway  in  his  wake,  not  precisely  in  the  ca 
pacity  of  spies  and  eavesdroppers,  but  as  ac 
quaintances  who  would  know  him  better. 

He  was  not  an  imposing  figure.  You  would 
not  have  looked  twice  at  him.  You  could  not 
have  remembered  looking  once  at  him,  for  that 
matter.  He  was  the  type  of  man  who  ambles 
through  life  without  being  noticed,  even  by 
those  amiably  inclined  persons  who  make  it 
their  business  to  see  everything  that  is  going 
on,  no  matter  how  trivial  it  is. 

Somewhere  in  this  wide  and  unfeeling  world 
the  husband  of  Nellie  Duluth  had  an  identity 
of  his  own,  but  New  York  was  not  the  place. 
Back  in  the  little  Western  town  from  which  he 
came  he  had  a  name  and  a  personality  all  his 
own,  but  it  was  a  far  cry  from  Broadway  and 
its  environments.  For  a  matter  of  four  or  five 
years  he  had  been  known  simply  as  "  Er — 
What  's-His-Name  ?  Nellie  Duluth 's  husband !  ' ' 
You  have  known  men  of  his  stripe,  I  am  sure ; 
men  who  never  get  anywhere  for  the  good  and 


4  WHAT'S-HIS-NAME 

sufficient  reason  that  it  isn't  necessary.  Men 
who  stand  still.  Men  who  do  not  even  shine 
by  reflected  glory.  Men  whose  names  you  can 
not  remember.  It  might  be  Smith  or  Brown  or 
Jones,  or  any  of  the  names  you  can't  forget 
if  you  try,  and  yet  it  always  escapes  you.  You 
know  the  sort  I  mean. 

Nellie  Duluth's  husband  was  a  smallish  young 
man,  nice-looking,  even  kind-looking,  with  an 
habitual  expression  of  inquiry  in  his  face,  just 
as  if  he  never  quite  got  used  to  seeing  or  be 
ing  seen.  The  most  expert  tailor  haberdasher 
could  not  have  provided  him  with  apparel  that 
really  belonged  to  him.  Not  that  he  was  awk 
ward  or  ill-favoured  in  the  matter  of  figure, 
but  that  he  lacked  individuality.  He  always 
seemed  to  be  a  long  way  from  home. 

Sometimes  you  were  sure  that  he  affected  a 
slight,  straw-coloured  moustache;  then,  a  mo 
ment  afterward,  if  you  turned  your  back,  you 
were  not  quite  sure  about  it.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  he  did  possess  such  an  adornment.  The 
trouble  came  in  remembering  it.  Then,  again, 
his  eyes  were  babyish  blue  and  unseasoned;  he 
was  always  looking  into  shop  windows,  getting 
accustomed  to  the  sights.  Trolley  cars  and 


OUR  HERO  5 

automobiles  were  never-decreasing  novelties  to 
him,  if  you  were  to  judge  by  the  startled  way 
in  which  he  gazed  at  them.  His  respect  for  the 
crossing  policeman,  his  courtesy  to  the  street 
car  conductor,  his  timidity  in  the  presence  of 
the  corner  newsboy,  were  only  surpassed  by  his 
deference  to  the  waiter  in  the  cheap  restaurants 
he  affected. 

But,  ah!  You  should  have  seen  him  in  that 
little  Western  town!  He  was  a  "  devil  of  a 
fellow  ' '  out  there !  He  knew  the  policemen  by 
their  first  names  and  had  no  respect  for  them ; 
street-car  conductors  were  hail-fellows  well  met, 
and  the  newsboys  wore  spectacles  and  said 
"  Yes,  sir,"  to  him.  As  for  the  waiters,  he 
knew  them  all  by  their  Christian  name,  which 
usually  was  Annie  or  Mamie  or  Katie. 

On  Broadway  he  was  quite  another  person. 
He  knew  his  Broadway  from  one  end  to  the 
other — that  is  to  say,  he  knew  that  side  of  the 
11  Great  White  Way  "  which  stares  you  in  the 
face  and  rebukes  you  for  staring  back — the 
outside  of  Broadway.  He  had  been  on  and  off 
Broadway  for  a  matter  of  five  years  and  yet 
he  had  never  recovered  from  the  habit  of  turn 
ing  out  for  every  pedestrian  he  met,  giving  the 


6  WHAT'S-HIS-NAME 

other  man  the  right  of  way  instead  of  holding 
to  his  own  half  of  it,  sometimes  stepping  in 
puddles  of  water  to  do  so  and  not  infrequently 
being  edged  off  the  curbstone  by  an  accumula 
tion  of  the  unexpected. 

Once  in  a  while  during  his  peregrinations 
some  one  recognised  him  and  bowed  in  a  hesi 
tating  manner,  as  if  trying  to  place  him,  and 
at  such  times  he  responded  with  a  beaming 
smile  and  a  half-carried-out  impulse  to  stop  for 
a  bit  of  a  chat,  but  always  with  a  subsequent 
acceleration  of  speed  on  discovering  that  the 
other  fellow  seemed  to  be  in  a  hurry.  They 
doubtless  knew  him  for  Miss  Duluth's  husband, 
but  for  the  life  of  them  they  couldn't  call  him 
by  name.  Every  one  understood  that  Nellie 
possessed  a  real  name,  but  no  one  thought  to 
ask  what  it  was. 

Moreover,  Nellie  had  a  small  daughter  whose 
name  was  Phoebe.  She  unquestionably  was  a 
collaboration,  but  every  one  who  knew  the  child 
spoke  of  her  as  that  "  darling  little  girl  of  Nel 
lie's."  The  only  man  in  New  York  who  ap 
peared  to  know  Nellie's  husband  by  name  was 
the  postman,  and  he  got  it  second-hand. 

At  the  stage  door  of  the  theatre  he  was  known 


OUR  HEBO  7 

as  Miss  Duluth's  husband,  to  the  stage  hands 
and  the  members  of  the  chorus  he  was  What's- 
His-Name,  to  the  principals  he  was  ' '  old  chap, ' ' 
to  Nellie  herself  he  was  Harvey,  to  Phoebe  he 
was  "  daddy,"  to  the  press  agent  he  was  name 
less — he  didn't  exist. 

You  could  see  Nellie  in  big  red  letters  on  all 
the  billboards.  She  was  inevitable.  Her  face 
smiled  at  you  from  every  nook  and  corner 
— and  it  was  a  pretty  face,  too — and 
you  had  to  get  your  tickets  of  the  scalpers  if 
you  wanted  to  see  her  in  person  any  night  in 
the  week,  Sundays  excepted.  Hats,  parasols, 
perfumes,  and  face  powders  were  named  after 
her.  It  was  Nellie  here  and  Nellie  there  and 
Nellie  everywhere.  The  town  was  mad  about 
her.  It  goes  without  saying  that  her  husband 
was  not  the  only  man  in  love  with  her. 

As  Harvey — let  me  see — oh,  never  mind — 
What's-His-Name — ambled  up  Broadway  on 
the  morning  of  his  introduction  into  this  homely 
narrative  he  was  smiled  at  most  bewitchingly 
by  his  wife — from  a  hundred  windows — for 
Nellie's  smile  was  never  left  out  of  the  litho 
graphs  (he  never  missed  seeing  one  of  them, 
you  may  be  sure) — but  it  never  occurred  to  him 


8  WHAT'S-HIS-NAME 

to  resent  the  fact  that  she  was  smiling  in  the 
same  inviting  way  to  every  other  man  who 
looked. 

He  ambled  on.  At  Forty-second  Street  he 
turned  to  the  right,  peering  at  the  curtained 
windows  of  the  Knickerbocker  with  a  sort  of 
fearful  longing  in  his  mild  blue  eyes,  and  kept 
on  his  way  toward  the  Grand  Central  Station. 
Although  he  had  been  riding  in  and  out  of  the 
city  on  a  certain  suburban  train  for  nearly  two 
years  and  a  half,  he  always  heaved  a  sigh  of 
relief  when  the  gate-tender  told  him  he  was 
taking  the  right  train  for  Tarrytown.  Once  in 
a  great  while,  on  matinee  days,  he  came  to  town 
to  luncheon  with  Nellie  before  the  performance. 
On  Sundays  she  journeyed  to  Tarrytown  to  see 
him  and  Phoebe.  In  that  way  they  saw  quite  a 
bit  of  each  other.  This  day,  however,  he  was 
taking  an  earlier  train  out,  and  he  was  secretly 
agitated  over  the  possibility  of  getting  the 
wrong  one.  Nellie  had  sent  word  to  the  thea 
tre  that  she  had  a  headache  and  could  not  have 
luncheon  with  him. 

He  was  not  to  come  up  to  her  apartment.  If 
he  had  known  a  human  being  in  all  New  York 
with  whom  he  could  have  had  luncheon,  he  would 


OUE  HERO  9 

have  stayed  in  town  and  perhaps  gone  to  a 
theatre.  But,  alas,  there  was  no  one!  Once 
he  had  asked  a  low  comedian,  a  former  mem 
ber  of  Nellie's  company,  but  at  the  time  out  of 
a  job  and  correspondingly  meek,  to  luncheon 
with  him  at  Rector's.  At  parting  he  had  the 
satisfaction  of  lending  the  player  eleven  dol 
lars.  He  hoped  it  would  mean  a  long  and  pleas 
ant  acquaintance  and  a  chance  to  let  the  world 
see  something  of  him.  But  the  low  comedian 
fell  unexpectedly  into  a  "  part  "  and  did  not 
remember  Nellie's  husband  the  next  time  he 
met  him.  He  forgot  something  else  as  well. 
Harvey's  memory  was  not  so  short.  He  never 
forgot  it.  It  rankled. 

He  bought  a  noon  extra  and  found  a  seat  in 
the  train.  Then  he  sat  up  very  straight  to  let 
people  see  that  they  were  riding  in  the  same 
car  with  the  great  Nellie  Duluth's  husband. 
Lucky  dog!  Every  one  was  saying  that  about 
him,  he  was  sure.  But  every  one  else  had  a 
noon  extra,  worse  luck! 

After  a  while  he  sagged  down  into  the  seat 
and  allowed  his  baby-blue  eyes  to  fall  into  a 
brown  study.  In  his  mind's  eye  he  was  seeing 
a  thousand  miles  beyond  the  western  bank  of 


10  WHAT'S-HIS-NAME 

the  Hudson,  far  off  into  the  quiet  streets  of  a 
town  that  scarcely  had  heard  the  name  of  Nel 
lie  Duluth  and  yet  knew  him  by  name  and  fame, 
even  to  the  remotest  nook  of  it. 

They  were  good  old  days,  sweet  old  days, 
those  days  when  he  was  courting  her — when 
she  was  one  among  many  and  he  the  only  one. 
Days  when  he  could  serve  customers  in  his 
shirt-sleeves  and  address  each  one  familiarly. 
Every  one  was  kind.  If  he  had  a  toothache, 
they  sympathised  with  him  and  advised  him  to 
have  it  pulled  and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  In 
New  York  (he  ground  his  teeth,  proving  that 
he  retained  them)  no  one  cared  whether  he  lived 
or  died.  He  hated  New  York.  He  would  have 
been  friendly  to  New  York — cheerfully,  gladly 
— if  New  York  had  been  willing  to  meet  him 
halfway.  It  was  friendly  to  Nellie;  why 
couldn't  it  be  friendly  to  him?  He  was  her 
husband.  Why,  confound  it  all,  out  in  Blake- 
ville,  where  they  came  from,  he  was  somebody 
while  she  was  merely  "  that  girl  of  Ted  Bark- 
ley's."  He  had  drawn  soda  water  for  her  a 
hundred  times  and  she  had  paid  him  in  pen 
nies  !  Only  five  years  ago.  Sometimes  she  had 
the  soda  water  charged ;  that  is  to  say,  she  had 


OUR  HERO  11 

it  put  on  her  mother's  bill.  Ted  couldn't  get 
credit  anywhere  in  town. 

And  now  look  at  her!  She  was  getting  six 
hundred  dollars  a  week  and  spurned  soda  water 
as  if  it  were  poison. 

His  chin  dropped  lower.  The  dreamy  look 
deepened. 

"  Doggone  it,"  he  mused  for  the  hundredth 
time,  "  I  could  have  been  a  partner  in  the 
store  by  this  time  if  I'd  stuck  to  Mr. 
Davis." 

He  was  thinking  of  Davis'  drug  store,  in 
Main  Street,  and  the  striped  blazer  he  wore 
while  tending  the  soda  fount  in  the  summer 
time.  A  red  and  yellow  affair,  that  blazer  was. 
Before  the  "  pharmacy  law  "  went  into  effect 
he  was  permitted  to  put  up  prescriptions  while 
Mr.  Davis  was  at  meals.  Afterward  he  was  re 
stricted  to  patent  medicines,  perfumes,  soaps, 
toilet  articles,  cigars,  razor  strops,  and  all  such, 
besides  soda  water  in  season.  Moreover,  when 
circuses  came  to  town  the  reserved-seat  sale 
was  conducted  in  Davis '  drug  store.  He  always 
had  passes  without  asking  for  them. 

Yes,  he  might  have  been  a  partner  by  this 
time.  He  drew  a  lot  of  trade  to  the  store.  Mr. 


12  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

Davis  could  not  have  afforded  to  let  him  go 
elsewhere. 

Five  years  ago!  It  seemed  ages.  He  was 
twenty-three  when  he  left  Blakeville.  "Wasted 
ages!  Somehow  he  liked  the  ready-made  gar 
ments  he  used  to  buy  at  the  Emporium  much 
better  than  those  he  wore  nowadays — fashion 
able  duds  from  Fifth  Avenue  at  six  times  the 
price.  He  used  to  be  busy  from  seven  A.M.  till 
ten  P.M.,  and  he  was  happy.  Nowadays  he  had 
nothing  to  do  but  get  up  and  shave  and  take 
Phoebe  for  walks,  eat,  read  the  papers,  tell 
stories  to  Phoebe,  and  go  to  bed.  To  be  sure, 
the  food  was  good  and  plentiful,  the  bed  was 
soft,  and  the  cottage  more  attractive  than  any 
thing  Blakeville  could  boast  of;  Phoebe  was  a 
joy  and  Nellie  a  jewel,  but — heigh-ho !  he  might 
have  been  a  partner  in  Davis'  drug  store  if 
he'd  stayed  in  the  old  town. 

The  man  in  the  seat  behind  was  speaking  to 
him.  He  came  out  of  his  reverie  with  a  glad 
rush.  It  was  so  unusual  for  any  one  to  take 
the  initiative  that  he  was  more  than  ready  to 
respond. 

"  I  see  the  Giants  lost  again  yesterday/'  said 
the  volunteer  conversationalist. 


OUR  HEEO  13 

' i  Yes.  Six  to  four, ' '  said  our  hero,  brightly, 
turning  in  his  seat.  He  always  read  the  base 
ball  news.  He  could  tell  you  the  batting  aver 
age  of  every  player  in  the  big  leagues  for  ten 
years  back. 

"  Lot  of  bone-heads,"  said  the  other  sourly. 
At  first  glance  our  friend  thought  he  looked 
like  an  actor  and  his  heart  sank.  But  perhaps 
he  might  be  a  travelling  salesman.  He  liked 
them.  In  either  event,  the  stranger's  estimate 
of  the  New  York  ball  team  pleased  him.  He 
rejoiced  in  every  defeat  it  sustained,  particu 
larly  at  the  hands  of  the  Chicagos. 

11  Not  in  it  with  the  Cubs,"  he  announced, 
blitheness  in  his  manner.  Here  was  a  man  after 
his  own  heart. 

But  the  stranger  glared  at  him.  "  The 
Cubs?  "  he  said,  his  voice  hardening,  his  man 
ner  turning  aggressive. 

"  They  make  the  Giants  look  like  two-spots," 
went  on  our  friend,  recklessly. 

The  stranger  looked  him  over  pityingly  and 
then  ended  the  conversation  by  deliberately  hid 
ing  himself  behind  his  newspaper.  Our  hero 
opened  his  lips  to  add  further  comment,  but 
something  in  the  way  the  paper  crackled  caused 


14  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

him  to  close  them  and  turn  back  to  his  bitter 
survey  of  the  Hudson.  And  the  confounded 
fellow  had  invited  his  confidence,  too ! 

He  got  down  at  Tarrytown  and  started  up 
the  hill.  The  station-master  pointed  him  out  to 
a  friend. 

"  That's— er— What 's-His-Name— Nellie  Du- 
luth's  husband." 

"  That  guy?  " 

"  She  keeps  him  up  here  in  a  cottage  to  take 
care  of  the  baby.  Away  from  the  temptations 
of  the  city,"  said  the  agent,  with  a  broad  wink. 

"  I  didn't  know  she  was  married,"  said  his 
friend,  who  lived  in  Yonkers. 

"Well,  she  is." 

Mr. — (I  declare,  his  name  escapes  me,  so  I 
will  call  him  by  his  Christian  name,  Harvey) — 
Harvey,  utterly  oblivious  to  the  pitying  scru 
tiny  of  the  two  men,  moved  slowly  up  the  road, 
homeward  bound.  He  stopped  in  the  middle  of 
the  sidewalk  to  light  a  "  Sweet  Cap,"  threw 
back  his  unimposing  shoulders,  and  accelerated 
his  gait  a  trifle  in  deference  to  his  position  as 
the  master  of  a  celebrity. 

It  was  his  habit  to  take  a  rather  roundabout 
way  up  to  the  little  cottage  on  the  hill.  The 


OUE  HERO  15 

route  led  him  past  a  certain  drug  store  and  a 
grocer's  where  he  was  on  speaking  terms  with 
the  clerks.  They  knew  him.  He  did  the  mar 
keting,  but  the  account  was  in  Miss  Duluth's 
name.  A  livery  stable,  too,  was  on  the  line  of 
progress.  He  occasionally  stopped  in  to  en 
gage  a  pony  phaeton  for  a  drive  in  the  after 
noon  with  Phoebe. 

To-day  he  passed  these  places  by.  Every  one 
seemed  to  be  busy.  He  could  see  that  at  a 
glance.  So  there  wasn't  any  use  stopping. 
That  was  what  he  got  for  coming  home  from 
town  in  the  middle  of  the  day.  He  nodded  to 
several  acquaintances — passing  acquaintances 
in  both  senses  of  the  word.  They  turned  to  look 
after  him,  half -smiles  on  their  lips. 

One  woman  said  to  another,  "  I  wonder  if 
he's  really  married  to  her?  " 

"  If  he  wasn't,  he'd  be  living  in  the  city  with 
her,"  was  the  complete  rejoinder. 

' l  He  seems  such  a  quiet  little  man,  so  utterly 
unlike  what  a  husband  of  hers  ought  to  be. 
He's  from  the  far  West — near  Chicago,  I  be 
lieve.  I  never  can  remember  his  name.  Can 
you?  " 

"  I've  never  heard  it." 


16  WHAT'S-HIS-NAME 

"  It's  not  an  uncommon  name." 

"  Why  doesn't  he  call  himself  Mr.  Duluth?  " 

"  My  husband  says  actresses  are  not  sup 
posed  to  have  husbands.  If  they  have  them, 
they  keep  them  in  the  background." 

"  That's  true.  I  know  I  am  always  surprised 
when  I  see  that  they're  trying  to  get  divorces." 

Harvey  was  never  so  far  in  the  background 
as  when  he  appeared  in  the  foreground.  One 
seldom  took  notice  of  him  unless  he  was  out  of 
sight,  or  at  least  out  of  hearing. 

He  was  not  effeminate;  he  was  not  the 
puerile,  shiftless  creature  the  foregoing  sen 
tences  may  have  led  you  to  suspect.  He  was- 
simply  a  weakling  in  the  strong  grasp  of  cir 
cumstance.  He  could  not  help  himself;  to  save 
his  life,  he  could  not  be  anything  but  Nellie 
Duluth 's  husband. 

Not  a  bad-looking  chap,  as  men  of  his  stamp 
go.  Not  much  of  a  spine,  perhaps,  and  a  little 
saggy  about  the  shoulders;  all  in  all,  rather  a 
common  type.  He  kept  his  thin  moustache 
twisted,  but  inconsistently  neglected  to  shave 
for  several  days — that  kind  of  a  man.  His 
trousers,  no  matter  how  well  made,  were  al 
ways  in  need  of  pressing  and  his  coat  was 


OUR  HERO  17 

wrinkled  from  too  much  sitting  on  the  small  of 
his  back.  His  shirts,  collars,  and  neckties  were 
clean  and  always  "  dressy."  Nellie  saw  to  that. 
Besides  he  always  had  gone  in  for  gay  colours 
when  it  came  to  ties  and  socks.  His  watch-fob 
was  a  thing  of  weight  and  pre-eminence.  It 
was  of  the  bell-clapper  type.  In  the  summer 
time  he  wore  suspenders  with  his  belt,  and  in 
the  winter  time  he  wore  a  belt  with  his  sus 
penders.  Of  late  he  affected  patent-leather 
shoes  with  red  or  green  tops;  he  walked  as  if 
he  despised  the  size  of  them. 

Arriving  at  the  snug  little  cottage,  he  was 
brought  face  to  face  with  one  of  the  common 
tragedies  of  a  housekeeper 's  life.  The  cook  and 
the  nursemaid,  who  also  acted  as  waitress  and 
chambermaid,  had  indulged  in  one  of  their  con 
troversies  during  his  absence,  and  the  former 
had  departed,  vowing  she  would  never  return. 
Here  it  was  luncheon  time  and  no  one  to  get 
it!  He  knew  that  Bridget  would  be  back  be 
fore  dinner  time — she  always  did  come  back — 
but  in  the  meantime  what  were  they  to  do? 
There  wasn't  a  thing  in  the  house. 

He  found  himself  wishing  he  had  stayed  in 
the  city  for  luncheon. 


18  WHAT'S-HIS-NAME 

Annie's  story  was  a  long  one,  but  he  gath 
ered  from  it  that  Bridget  was  wholly  to  blame 
for  the  row.  Annie  was  very  positive  as  to 
that. 

"  Have  we  any  eggs?  "  asked  the  dismayed 
master. 

11  Eggs?  How  should  I  know,  sir?  "  de 
manded  Annie.  "  It's  Bridget's  place  to  know 
what's  in  the  pantry,  not  mine.  The  Lord 
knows  I  have  enough  to  do  without  looking 
after  her  work." 

"  Excuse  me,"  said  he,  apologetically.  He 
hesitated  for  a  moment  and  then  came  to  a 
decision.  "  I  guess  I'd  better  go  and  see  what 
we've  got.  If  we've  got  eggs,  I  can  fry  'em. 
Bridget  will  be  back  this  evening." 

''I'm  not  so  sure  of  that,"  said  Annie,  bel 
ligerently.  "  I  told  her  this  was  the  last  time, 
the  very  last." 

"  I'll  bet  you  a  quarter  she  comes  back,"  said 
he,  brightly. 

"  Gee!  What  a  sport  you  are!  "  scoffed 
Annie. 

He  flushed.  "  Will  you  please  set  the  table?  " 

"  It's  set." 

"  Oh!" 


OUR  HERO  19 

"I'll  help  you  make  the  toast,  if  you'd  like," 
said  she,  a  sudden  feeling  of  pity  for  him  com 
ing  into  her  niggardly  soul. 

"  Thanks,"  he  said,  briskly.  "  And  the  tea, 
too?  " 

"  I  think  we'd  better  have  coffee,"  said  she, 
asserting  a  preference  for  the  housemaid's 
joy. 

"  Just  as  you  say,"  he  acquiesced,  hastily. 
"Where  is  Phoebe?  " 

"  Next  door  with  the  Butler  kids — children, 
I  mean.  Maybe  they  '11  ask  her  to  stay  to  lunch. '  > 

He  gave  her  a  surprise.  "  Go  over  and  tell 
her  to  come  home.  I  don't  want  her  staying  to 
luncheon  with  those  damned  Butlers." 

She  stared,  open-mouthed.  "I'm  sure,  sir, 
they're  quite  as  good  as — as  we  are.  What 
have  you  got  against  'em?  " 

He  could  not  tell  her  that  Butler,  who  worked 
in  a  bank,  never  took  the  trouble  to  notice 
him  except  when  Nellie  was  out  to  spend 
Sunday. 

"  Never  mind.    Go  and  get  Phoebe." 

He  made  a  dash  for  the  kitchen,  and  when 
the  exasperated  Annie  returned  a  few  minutes 
later  with  Phoebe — rebellious  Phoebe,  who  at 


20  WHAT'S-HIS-NAME 

that  particular  moment  hated  her  father — he 
was  in  his  shirt-sleeves  and  aproned,  breaking 
eggs  over  a  skillet  on  the  gas  stove.  His  face 
was  very  red,  as  if  considerable  exertion  had 
been  required. 

Phoebe  was  pouting  when  she  came  in,  but 
the  sight  of  her  father  caused  her  to  set  up 
a  shriek  of  glee. 

"  What  fun,  daddy!  "  she  cried.  "  Now  we'll 
never  need  Bridget  again.  I  don't  like  her. 
You  will  be  our  cook,  won't  you?  " 

Annie's  sarcastic  laugh  annoyed  him. 

11  I  used  to  do  all  the  cooking  when  the  Owl 
Club  went  camping, ' '  he  announced,  entirely  for 
Annie's  benefit. 

"  In  Blakeville?  "  asked  Annie,  with  a  grin. 

"  Yes,  in  Blakeville,"  he  exploded,  almost 
dropping  the  cigarette  from  his  lips  into  the 
skillet.  His  blue  eyes  flashed  ominously. 
Annie,  unused  to  the  turning  of  the  worm, 
caught  her  breath. 

Suddenly  obsessed  by  the  idea  that  he  was 
master  in  his  own  house,  he  began  strutting 
about  the  kitchen,  taking  mental  note  of  the 
things  that  needed  attention,  with  a  view  to  re 
proving  Bridget  when  she  came  back  to  the 


OUR  HERO  21 

fold.  He  burnt  his  fingers  trying  to  straighten 
the  stovepipe,  smelt  of  the  dish-cloths  to  see  if 
they  were  greasy,  rattled  the  pans  and  be 
thought  himself  of  the  eggs  just  in  the  nick  of 
time.  In  some  haste  and  embarrassment  he  re 
moved  the  skillet  from  the  fire  just  as  Annie 
came  out  of  the  pantry  with  the  bread  and  the 
coffee  can. 

"  Where's  the  platter?  "•  he  demanded,  hold 
ing  the  skillet  at  arm's  length.  "  They're 
fried." 

"  They'll  be  stone  cold,"  said  she,  "  waiting 
for  the  coffee  to  boil.  You  ain't  got  any  water 
boiling. ' ' 

"  I  thought,  perhaps,  we'd  better  have  milk," 
he  said,  gathering  his  wits. 

To  his  surprise — and  to  her  own,  for  that 
matter — she  said,  "  Very  good,  sir,"  and  re 
paired  to  the  icebox  for  the  dairy  bottles.  He 
was  still  holding  the  skillet  when  she  returned. 
She  was  painfully  red  in  the  face. 

Phoebe  eyed  the  subsequent  preparations  for 
the  meal  with  an  increasing  look  of  sullenness 
in  her  quaint  little  face.  She  was  rather  a 
pretty  child.  You  would  say  of  her,  if  you  saw 
her  in  the  street,  "  What  a  sweet  child!  "  just 


22  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

as  you  would  say  it  about  the  next  one  you 
met. 

Her  father,  taking  note  of  her  manner, 
paused  in  the  act  of  removing  his  apron. 

"  What's  the  matter,  darling?  " 

"  Can't  I  go  over  to  Mrs.  Butler's  for  lunch 
eon?  "  she  complained.  "  They're  going  to 
have  chicken." 

"  So  are  we,"  said  he,  pointing  to  the 
eggs. 

"  I  want  to  go,"  said  Phoebe,  stubbornly. 

He  coloured.  "  Don't  you  want  to  stay  home 
and  eat  what  daddy  has  cooked?  "  he  asked, 
rather  plaintively. 

"  I  want  to  go." 

He  could  only  resort  to  bribery.  "  And  dad 
dy '11  take  you  down  to  see  the  nickel  show  as 
soon  as  we've  finished,"  he  offered.  The  child's 
face  brightened. 

Here  Annie  interposed. 

"  She  can't  go  to  see  them  nickel  shows;  Miss 
Duluth  won't  stand  for  it.  She's  give  me  strict 
orders." 

"  I'll  take  good  care  of  her "  began 

Phoebe's  father. 

"  Miss   Duluth 's   afraid  of  diphtheria   and 


OUR  HERO  23 

scarlet  fever,"  said  Annie,  resolutely,  as  she 
poured  out  a  glass  of  milk  for  him. 

"  Not  likely  to  be  any  diphtheria  this  time 
of  year,"  he  began  again,  spurred  by  the  kick 
Phoebe  planted  on  his  kneecap. 

"  Well,  orders  is  orders.  What  Miss  Duluth 
says  goes." 

"  Ah,  come  now,  Annie " 

"  Say,  do  you  want  her  to  ketch  scarlet  fever 
and  die?  "  demanded  the  nurse,  putting  the 
bottle  down  and  glaring  at  him  with  a  look  of 
mixed  commiseration  and  scorn. 

"  Good  Heavens,  no!  "  he  ejaculated.  The 
very  thought  of  it  brought  a  gush  of  cold  wa 
ter  to  his  mouth. 

"  Well,  take  her  to  see  it  if  you  must,  but 
don't  blame  me.  She's  your  kid,"  said  Annie, 
meanly,  with  victory  assured. 

"  Make  her  say  t  Yes/  "  urged  Phoebe,  in  a 
loud  whisper. 

He  hedged.  "  Do  you  want  to  have  the  scar 
let  fever?  "  he  asked,  dismally. 

"  Yes,"  said  Phoebe.    "  And  measles,  too." 

The  sound  of  heavy  footsteps  on  the  back 
porch  put  an  end  to  the  matter  for  the  time 
being.  Even  Phoebe  was  diverted. 


24  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

Bridget  had  come  back.  A  little  ahead  of  her 
usual  schedule,  too,  which  was  food  for  appre 
hension.  Usually  she  took  the  whole  day  off 
when  she  left  "  for  good  and  all."  Never  be 
fore  in  the  history  of  her  connection  with  Miss 
Duluth's  menage  had  she  returned  so  promptly. 
Involuntarily  the  master  of  the  house  glanced 
out  of  the  window  to  see  if  a  rain  had  blown 
up.  The  sun  was  shining  brightly.  It  wasn't 
the  weather. 

The  banging  of  the  outer  door  to  the  kitchen 
caused  him  to  jump  ever  so  slightly  and  to  cast 
a  glance  of  inquiry  at  Annie,  who  altered  her 
original  course  and  moved  toward  the  sitting- 
room  door.  In  the  kitchen  a  perfectly  innocent 
skillet  crashed  into  the  sink  with  a  vigour  that 
was  more  than  ominous. 

A  moment  later  Bridget  appeared  in  the 
door.  She  wore  her  best  hat  and  gloves  and 
the  dress  she  always  went  to  mass  in.  The 
light  of  battle  was  in  her  eye. 

"  We — we  thought  we  wouldn't  wait,  Brid 
get,  ' '  said  Mr. — er — What  's-His-Name,  quickly. 
"  You  never  come  back  till  six  or  seven,  you 
know,  so " 

"  Who's  been  monkeyin'  wid  my  kitchen1?  " 


OUR  HERO  25 

demanded  Bridget.  She  started  to  unbutton 
one  of  her  gloves  and  the  movement  was  so 
abrupt  and  so  suggestive  that  he  got  up  from 
his  chair  in  such  a  hurry  that  he  overturned  it. 

"  Somebody  had  to  get  lunch,"  he  began. 

"  I  wasn't  sp'akin'  to  you,"  said  Bridget, 
glaring  past  him  at  Annie. 

He  gulped  suddenly.  For  the  second  time 
that  day  his  eyes  blazed.  Things  seemed  to  be 
dancing  before  them. 

"  Well,  I'm  speaking  to  you!  "  he  shouted, 
banging  the  table  with  his  clenched  fist. 

' i  What !  ' '  squealed  Bridget,  staggering  back 
in  astonishment. 

He  remembered  Phoebe. 

"  You'd  better  run  over  to  the  Butlers', 
Phoebe,  and  have  lunch,"  he  said,  his  voice 
trembling  in  spite  of  himself.  "  Run  along 
lively  now." 

Bridget  was  still  staring  at  him  like  one 
bereft  of  her  senses  when  Phoebe  scrambled 
down  from  her  chair  and  raced  out  of  the  room. 
He  turned  upon  the  cook. 

4  *  What  do  you  mean  by  coming  in  here  and 
speaking  to  me  in  that  manner?  "  he  demanded, 
shrilly. 


26  WHAT'S-HIS-NAME 

"  Great  God  above !  "  gasped  Bridget  weakly. 
She  dropped  her  glove.  Her  eyes  were  blink 
ing. 

"  And  why  weren't  you  here  to  get  lunch?  " 
he  continued,  ruthlessly.  "  What  do  we  pay 
you  for?  " 

Bridget  forgot  her  animosity  toward  Annie. 
"  What  do  yez  think  o'  that?  "  she  muttered, 
addressing  the  nursemaid. 

11  Get  back  to  the  kitchen,"  ordered  he. 

Cook  had  recovered  herself  by  this  time.  Her 
broad  face  lost  its  stare  and  a  deep  scowl,  with 
fiery  red  background,  spread  over  her  features. 
She  imposed  her  huge  figure  a  step  or  two 
farther  into  the  room. 

"  Phat's  that?  "  she  demanded. 

She  weighed  one  hundred  and  ninety  and  was 
nearly  six  feet  tall.  He  was  barely  five  feet 
five  and  could  not  have  tipped  the  beam  at  one 
hundred  and  twenty-five  without  his  winter  suit 
and  overcoat.  He  moved  back  a  corresponding 
step  or  two. 

"  Don't  argue,"  he  said,  hurriedly. 

"  Argue?  "  she  snorted.  "  Phy,  ye  little 
shrimp,  who  are  you  to  be  talkin'  back  to  me? 
For  two  cents  I'd " 


OUR  HERO  27 

"  You  are  discharged!  "  he  cried,  hastily 
putting  a  chair  in  her  path — but  wisely  retain 
ing  a  grip  on  it. 

She  threw  back  her  head  and  laughed,  loudly, 
insultingly.  Her  broad  hands,  now  gloveless 
and  as  red  as  broiled  lobsters,  found  resting- 
places  on  her  hips.  He  allowed  his  gaze  to  take 
them  in  with  one  hurried,  sweeping  glance. 
They  were  as  big  and  as  menacing  as  a  prize 
fighter's. 

11  We'll  discuss  it  when  you're  sober,"  he 
made  haste  to  say,  trying  to  wink  amiably. 

11  So  help  me  Mike,  I  haven't  touched 

a "  she  began,  but  caught  herself  in  time. 

41  So  yez  discharge  me,  do  yez?  "  she  shouted. 

"  I  understood  you  had  quit,  anyway." 

"  Well,  me  fine  little  man,  I'll  see  yez  further 
before  I'll  quit  now.  I  came  back  this  minute 
to  give  notice,  but  I  wouldn't  do  it  now  for 
twenty-five  dollars." 

"  You  don't  have  to  give  notice.  You're  dis 
charged.  Good-bye."  He  started  for  the 
sitting-room. 

She  slapped  the  dining-table  with  one  of  her 
big  hands.  The  dishes  bounced  into  the  air, 
and  so  did  he. 


28  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

"  I'll  give  this  much  notice  to  yez,"  she 
roared,  "  and  ye '11  bear  it  in  mind  as  long  as 
yez  stay  in  the  same  house  wid  me.  I  don't 
take  no  orders  from  the  likes  of  you.  I  was 
employed  by  Miss  Duluth.  I  cook  for  her,  I  get 
me  pay  from  her,  and  I'll  not  be  fired  by  any 
body  but  her.  Do  yez  get  that?  I'd  as  soon 
take  orders  from  the  kid  as  from  you,  ye  little 
pinhead.  Who  are  yez  annyhow?  Ye 're  no 
body.  Begorry,  I  don't  even  know  yer  name. 
Discharge  me !  Phy,  phy,  ye  couldn't  discharge 
a  firecracker.  What's  that?  " 

"  I — I  didn't  say  anything,"  he  gasped. 

"  Ye 'd  better  not." 

"  I  shall  speak  to — to  Miss  Duluth  about 
this,"  he  muttered,  very  red  in  the  face. 

"  Do!  "  she  advised,  sarcastically.  "  She'll 
tell  yez  to  mind  yer  own  business,  the  same  as 
I  do.  The  idee !  Talkin '  about  firing  me !  Fer 
the  love  av  Mike,  Annie,  what  do  yez  think  av 
the  nerve?  Phy  Miss  Duluth  kapes  him  on  the 
place  I  can't  fer  the  life  av  me  see.  She's  that 
tinder-hearted  she ' 

But  he  had  bolted  through  the  door,  slam 
ming  it  after  him.  As  he  reached  the  bottom 
of  the  stairs  leading  to  his  bedroom  the 


OUR  HEEO  29 

door  opened  again  and  Annie  called  out  to 
him: — 

"  Are  you  through  lunch,  sir?  " 

He  was  halfway  up  the  steps  before  he  could 
frame  an  answer.  Tears  of  rage  and  humilia 
tion  were  in  his  baby-blue  eyes. 

"  Tell  her  to  go  to  the  devil,"  he  sputtered. 

As  he  disappeared  at  the  bend  in  the  stairs 
he  distinctly  heard  Annie  say: — 

"  I  can  see  myself  doing  it — not." 

For  an  hour  he  paced  the  floor  of  his  little 
bed-chamber,  fuming  and  swearing  to  himself 
in  a  mild,  impotent  fashion — and  in  some  dread 
of  the  door.  Such  words  and  sentences  as  these 
fell  from  his  lips: — "  Nobody!  "  "  Keeps  me 
on  the  place!  "  "  Because  she's  tender 
hearted!  "  "  I  will  fire  her!  "  "  Can't  talk 
back  to  me  i  "  "  Damned  Irisher !  ' '  And  so  on 
and  so  forth  until  he  quite  wore  himself  out. 
Then  he  sat  down  at  the  window  and  let  the 
faraway  look  slip  back  into  his  troubled  blue 
eyes.  They  began  to  smart,  but  he  did  not 
blink  them. 

Phoebe  found  him  there  at  four  when  she 
came  in  for  her  nap.  He  promised  to  play  cro 
quet  with  her. 


30  WHAT'S-HIS-NAME 

Dinner  was  served  promptly  that  evening, 
and  it  was  the  best  dinner  Bridget  had  cooked 
in  a  month. 

"  That  little  talk  of  mine  did  some  good," 
said  he  to  himself,  as  he  selected  a  toothpick 
and  went  in  to  read  "  Nicholas  Nickleby  "  till 
bedtime.  "  They  can't  fool  with  me." 

He  was  reading  Dickens.  His  wife  had  given 
him  a  complete  set  for  Christmas.  To  keep  him 
occupied,  she  said. 


CHAPTEE  n 

MISS  NELLIE  DULUTH 

NELLIE  DULUTH  had  an  apartment  up  near  the 
Park,  the  upper  end  of  the  Park,  in  fact,  and 
to  the  east  of  it.  She  went  up  there,  she  said, 
so  that  she  could  be  as  near  as  possible  to  her 
husband  and  daughter.  Besides,  she  hated  tak 
ing  the  train  at  the  Grand  Central  on  Sundays. 
She  always  went  to  One  Hundred  and  Twenty- 
fifth  Street  in  her  electric  brougham.  It  didn't 
seem  so  far  to  Tarrytown  from  One  Hundred 
and  Twenty-fifth.  In  making  her  calculations 
Nellie  always  went  through  the  process  of  sub 
tracting  forty-two  from  one-twenty-five,  seldom 
correctly.  She  had  no  difficulty  in  taking  the 
two  from  the  five,  but  it  wasn't  so  simple  when 
it  came  to  taking  four  from  two  with  one  to 
carry  over.  It  was  the  one  that  confused  her. 
For  the  life  of  her  she  couldn't  see  what  be 
came  of  it.  Figures  of  that  sort  were  not  in 
her  line. 
Nellie's  career  had  been  meteoric.  She  lit- 

81 


32  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

erally  had  leaped  from  the  chorus  into  the  role 
of  principal  comedienne — one  of  those  pranks 
of  fortune  that  cannot  be  explained  or  denied. 
She  was  one  of  the  * '  Jack-in-the-Box  ' '  girls  in 
a  big  New  York  production.  On  the  opening 
night,  when  the  lid  of  her  box  flew  open  and 
she  was  projected  into  plain  view,  she  lost  her 
bearings  and  missed  the  tiny  platform  in  com 
ing  down.  To  save  herself  from  an  ignominious 
tumble  almost  to  the  footlights  she  hopped  off 
the  edge  of  her  box,  where  she  had  been  "  tee 
tering  "  helplessly,  and  did  a  brief  but  exceed 
ingly  graceful  little  "  toe  spin,"  hopping  back 
into  the  box  an  instant  later  with  all  the  agility 
of  a  scared  rabbit.  She  expected  "  notice  " 
from  the  stage  manager  for  her  inexcusable 
slip. 

But  the  spectators  liked  it.  They  thought  it 
was  in  the  play.  She  was  so  pretty,  so 
sprightly,  so  graceful,  and  so  astoundingly 
modest  that  they  wanted  more  of  her.  After 
the  performance  no  fewer  than  a  dozen  men 
asked  the  producer  why  he  didn't  give  that  lit 
tle  girl  with  the  black  hair  more  of  a  chance. 

The  next  night  she  was  commanded  to  repeat 
the  trick.  Then  they  permitted  her  to  do  it 


MISS  NELLIE  DULUTH  33 

over  in  the  "  encore."  Before  the  end  of  a 
fortnight  she  was  doing  a  dance  with  the 
comedian,  exchanging  lines  with  him.  Then  a 
little  individual  song-and-dance  specialty  was 
introduced.  At  the  close  of  the  engagement  on 
Broadway  she  announced  that  she  would  not 
sign  for  the  next  season  unless  given  a  "  rip 
ping  "  part  and  the  promise  to  be  featured. 

That  was  three  years  ago.  Now  she  was  the 
feature  in  the  big,  musical  comedy  success,  "  Up 
in  the  Air  "  and  had  New  York  at  her  feet. 
The  critics  admitted  that  she  saved  the 
"  piece  "  in  spite  of  composer  and  librettist. 
Some  one  is  always  doing  that  very  thing  for 
the  poor  wretches,  Heaven  pity  them. 

Nellie  was  not  only  pretty  and  sprightly,  but 
as  clever  as  they  make  them.  She  never  drew 
the  short  straw.  She  had  a  brain  that  was  quite 
as  active  as  her  feet.  It  was  not  a  very  big 
brain ;  for  that  matter,  her  feet  were  tiny.  She 
had  the  good  sense  to  realise  that  her  brain 
would  last  longer  than  her  feet,  so  she  got  as 
much  for  them  as  she  could  while  the  applause 
lasted.  She  drove  shrewd  bargains  with  the 
managers  and  shrewder  ones  with  Wall  Street 
admirers,  who  experienced  a  slim  sense  of  grati- 


34  WHAT'S-HIS-NAME 

fication  in  being  able  to  give  her  tips  on  the 
market,  with  the  assurance  that  they  would  see 
to  it  that  she  didn't  lose. 

She  put  her  money  into  diamonds  as  fast  as 
she  got  it.  Some  one  in  the  profession  had  told 
her  that  diamonds  were  safer  than  banks  or 
railroad  bonds.  She  could  get  her  interest  by 
looking  at  them  and  she  could  always  sell  them 
for  what  she  paid  for  them. 

The  card  on  the  door  of  her  cosey  apartment 
bore  the  name,  "  Miss  Nellie  Duluth." 

There  was  absolutely  nothing  inside  or  out 
side  the  flat  to  lead  one  to  suspect  that  there 
was  a  Mr.  Duluth.  A  husband  was  the  re 
motest  figure  in  her  household.  When  the  man 
agement  concluded  to  put  her  name  in  the  play 
bill,  after  the  memorable  Jack-in-the-Box  leap, 
she  was  requested  to  drop  her  married  name, 
because  it  would  not  look  well  in  print. 

"  Where  were  you  born?  "  the  manager  had 
asked. 

"  Duluth." 

"  Take  Duluth  for  luck,"  said  he,  and  Du 
luth  it  was.  She  changed  the  baptismal  name 
Ella  to  Nellie.  At  home  in  Blakeville  she  had 
been  called  Eller  or  Ell. 


MISS  NELLIE  DULUTH  35 

Her  apartment  was  an  attractive  one.  Her 
housemaid  was  a  treasure.  She  was  English 
and  her  name  was  Rachel.  Nellie's  personal 
maid  and  dresser  was  French.  Her  name  was 
Rebecca.  When  Miss  Duluth  and  Rebecca  left 
the  apartment  to  go  to  the  theatre  in  the  for 
mer's  electric  brougham,  Rachel  put  the  place 
in  order.  So  enormous  was  the  task  that  she 
barely  had  it  finished  when  her  mistress  re 
turned,  tired  and  sleepy,  to  litter  it  all  up  again 
with  petticoats,  stockings,  roses,  orchids,  lob 
ster  shells,  and  cigarette  stubs.  More  often 
than  otherwise  Nellie  brought  home  girls  from 
the  theatre  to  spend  the  night  with  her.  Poor 
things,  they  were  chorus  girls,  just  as  she  had 
been,  and  they  had  so  far  to  go.  Besides,  they 
served  as  excuses  for  declining  unwelcome  in 
vitations  to  supper.  Be  that  as  it  may,  Rachel 
had  to  clean  up  after  them,  finding  their  puffs, 
rats,  and  switches  in  the  morning  and  the  tele 
phone  number  at  their  lodgings  in  the  middle 
of  the  night.  She  had  her  instructions  to  say 
that  such  young  ladies  were  spending  the  night 
with  Miss  Duluth. 

"  If  you  don't  believe  it,  call  up  Miss  Du 
luth 's  number  in  the  telephone  book,"  she  al- 


36  WHAT  'S-HIS-N  AME 

ways   concluded,   as  if  the  statement  needed 
verification. 

Nellie  had  not  been  in  Tarrytown  for  a  mat 
ter  of  three  weeks;  what  with  rehearsals,  revi 
sions,  consultations,  and  suppers,  she  just 
couldn't  get  around  to  it.  The  next  day  after 
Harvey's  inglorious  stand  before  Bridget  she 
received  a  letter  from  him  setting  forth  the 
whole  affair  in  a  peculiarly  vivid  light.  He  said 
that  something  would  have  to  be  done  about 
Bridget  and  advised  her  to  come  out  on  the 
earliest  day  possible  to  talk  it  over  with  him. 
He  confessed  to  a  hesitancy  about  discharging 
the  cook,  recalling  the  trouble  she  had  experi 
enced  in  getting  her  away  from  a  neighbour  in 
the  first  place.  But  Bridget  was  drinking  and 
quarrelling  with  Annie  and  using  strong  lan 
guage  in  the  presence  of  Phoebe.  He  would 
have  discharged  her  long  ago  if  it  hadn't  been 
for  the  fear  of  worrying  her  during  rehearsals 
and  all  that.  She  wasn't  to  be  bothered  with 
trifling  household  squabbles  at  such  an  im 
portant  tune  as  this.  No,  sir !  Not  if  he  could 
help  it.  But,  just  the  same,  he  thought  she'd 
better  come  out  and  talk  it  over  before  Bridget 
took  it  into  her  head  to  poison  some  one. 


MISS  NELLIE  DULUTH  37 

"  I  really,  truly  must  go  up  to  Tarrytown 
next  Sunday,"  said  Nellie  to  the  select  com 
pany  supping  in  her  apartment  after  the  per 
formance  that  night.  "  Harvey's  going  to  dis 
charge  the  cook." 

"  Who  is  Harvey  ?  "  inquired  the  big  blond 
man  who  sat  beside  her. 

"  My  teenty-weenty  hubby,"  said  she,  airily. 

There  were  two  other  men  besides  the  big 
blond  in  the  party,  and  the  wife  of  one  of  them 
— a  balance  wheel. 

The  big  blond  man  stared  at  his  hostess.  He 
expected  her  to  laugh  at  her  own  joke,  but  she 
did  not.  The  others  were  discussing  the  rela 
tive  merits  of  the  Packard  and  Peerless  cars. 
He  waited  a  moment  and  then  leaned  closer  to 
Nellie's  ear. 

"  Are  you  in  earnest?  "  he  asked,  in  low 
tones. 

"  About  what,  Mr.  Fairfax?  " 

' '  Hubby.    Have  you  got  one  ?  ' ' 

*  *  Of  course  I  have.  Had  him  for  six  years. 
Why?  " 

He  swallowed  hard.  A  wave  of  red  crept 
up  over  his  jowl  and  to  the  very  roots  of  his 
hair. 


38  WHAT'S-HIS-NAME 

"  IVe  known  you  for  over  a  month,  Nellie," 
he  said,  a  hard  light  in  his  fishy  grey  eyes, ' '  and 
you've  never  mentioned  this  husband  of  yours. 
What's  the  game?  " 

"  It's  a  guessing  game,"  she  said,  coolly. 
"  You  might  guess  what  I'm  wearing  this  lit 
tle  plain  gold  ring  on  my  left  hand  for.  It's 
there  where  everybody  can  see  it,  isn't  it?  You 
just  didn't  take  the  trouble  to  look,  Mr.  Fair 
fax.  Women  don't  wear  wedding  rings  for  a 
joke,  let  me  tell  you  that." 

' '  I  never  noticed  it, ' '  he  said,  huskily.  '  *  The 
truth  is,  it  never  entered  my  head  to  think  you 
could  be  a  married  woman." 

11  Thought  I  was  divorced,  eh?  " 

"  Well,  divorces  are  not  uncommon,  you 
know.  You  girls  seem  to  get  rid  of  husbands 
quite  as  easily  as  you  pick  them  up." 

"  Lord  bless  you,"  said  Nellie,  in  no  way  of 
fended,  "  I  have  never  done  anything  to  give 
Harvey  cause  for  divorce,  and  I'm  sure  he's 
never  done  the  tiniest  thing  out  of  the  way. 
He  never  treats  me  cruelly,  he  never  beats 
me,  he  doesn't  get  tight  and  break  things  up, 
and  he  never  looks  at  other  women.  He's  the 
nicest  little  husband  ever. ' ' 


MISS  NELLIE  DULUTH  39 

She  instructed  Bachel  to  fill  up  Mr.  Fairfax's 
glass  and  pass  the  ripe  olives.  He  was  watch 
ing  her,  an  odd  expression  in  his  eyes.  A  big, 
smooth-faced  man  of  fifty  was  he,  fat  from 
high  living,  self-indulgence,  and  indolence,  im 
maculately  dressed  to  the  tips  of  his  toes. 

"  Speaking  of  divorce,"  she  went  on,  with 
out  looking  at  him,  "  your  wife  didn't  have 
much  trouble  getting  hers,  I've  heard." 

It  was  a  daring  thing  to  say,  but  Nellie  was 
from  the  West,  where  courage  and  freshness 
of  vision  are  regarded  as  the  antithesis  of  tact 
and  diplomacy.  Tact  calls  for  tact.  The  diplo 
matist  is  powerless  if  you  begin  shooting  at 
him.  Nellie  did  not  work  this  out  for  herself; 
she  merely  wanted  to  put  him  in  a  corner  where 
he  would  have  to  stand  and  get  it  over  with. 

Fairfax  was  disconcerted.  He  showed  it.  No 
one  ever  presumed  to  discuss  the  matter  with 
him.  It  was  a  very  tender  subject.  His  eyes 
wavered. 

"  I  like  your  cheek,"  he  growled. 

"  Don't  you  like  to  talk  about  it!  "  she  in 
quired,  innocently. 

"  No,"  he  replied,  curtly.  "  It's  nobody's 
business,  Miss  Duluth." 


40  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

"  My,  how  touchy!  '  She  shivered  prettily. 
* '  I  feel  as  if  some  one  had  thrown  a  pail  of  ice 
water  over  me." 

"  We  were  speaking  of  your — this  husband 
of  yours,"  he  said,  quietly.  "  Why  have  you 
never  mentioned  him  to  me  ?  Is  it  quite  fair  ?  ' ' 

"  It  just  slipped  my  mind,"  she  said,  in  the 
most  casual  way.  "  Besides,  I  thought  you 
knew.  My  little  girl  is  four — or  is  it  five?  ' 

"  Where  do  you  keep  them?  ' 

11  I've  got  'em  in  storage  up  at  Tarry  town. 
That's  the  Sleepy  Hollow  neighbourhood,  isn't 
it?  I  guess  that's  why  Harvey  likes  it  so  well." 

"  What  is  his  business?  ' 

She  looked  up  quickly.  "  What  is  that  to 
you,  Mr.  Fairfax?  " 

' '  Nothing.  I  am  in  no  way  interested  in 
Mr.  Duluth." 

"  His  name  isn't  Duluth,"  she  flashed,  hotly. 
"  If  you  are  not  interested  in  him,  let's  drop  the 
subject." 

16  I  retract  what  I  said.  I  am  always  inter 
ested  in  curiosities.  What's  he  like?  ' 

"  Well,  he's  like  a  gentleman,  if  you  are 
really  interested  in  curiosities,"  she  said. 

He  laughed.    "  By  Jove,  you've  got  a  ready 


MISS  NELLIE  DULUTH  41 

wit,  my  dear."  He  looked  at  her  reflectively, 
specula tively.  "  It's  rather  a  facer  to  have  you 
turn  out  to  be  a  married  woman. " 

"  Don't  you  like  married  women?  " 

"  Some  of  'em,"  he  answered,  coolly.  "  But 
I  don't  like  to  think  of  you  as  married." 

' '  Pooh !  ' '  she  said,  and  there  was  a  world  of 
meaning  in  the  way  she  said  it. 

"  Don't  you  know  that  it  means  a  great  deal 
to  me?  "  he  demanded,  leaning  closer  and 
speaking  in  a  lowered  voice,  tense  and  eager. 

"  Pooh!  "  she  repeated. 

He  flushed  again.  "  I  cannot  bear  the 
thought  of  you  belonging " 

She  interrupted  him  quickly.  "  I  wouldn't 
say  it,  if  I  were  you. ' ' 

"  But  I  must  say  it.  I'm  in  love  with  you, 
Nellie,  and  you  know  it.  Every  drop  of  blood 
in  my  veins  is  crying  out  for  you,  and  has 
been " 

Her  face  had  clouded.  "  I've  asked  you  not 
to  say  such  things  to  me." 

He  stared  in  amazement.  "  You  are  dream 
ing!  I've  never  uttered  a  word  of  this  sort  to 
you.  What  are  you  thinking  of?  This  is  the 
first  time  I've  said " 


42  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

Nellie  was  dismayed.  It  was  the  first  time 
he  had  spoken  to  her  in  that  way.  She  stam 
mered  something  about  "  general  principles," 
but  he  was  regarding  her  so  fixedly  that 
her  attempt  at  dissembling  was  most  uncon 
vincing. 

"  Or  perhaps,"  said  he,  almost  savagely,  but 
guardedly,  "  you  are  confusing  me  with  some 
one  else." 

This  was  broad  enough  to  demand  instant 
resentment.  She  took  refuge  in  the  oppor 
tunity. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  insult  me,  Mr.  Fairfax?  " 
she  demanded,  coldly,  drawing  back  in  her 
chair. 

He  laughed  harshly. 

"  Is  there  any  one  else?  "  he  asked,  gripping 
one  of  her  small  hands  in  his  great  fist. 

She  jerked  the  hand  away.  "  I  don't  like 
that,  Mr.  Fairfax.  Please  remember  it.  Don't 
ever  do  it  again.  You  have  no  right  to  ask  such 
questions  of  me,  either." 

"  I'm  a  fool  to  have  asked,"  he  said,  gruffly. 
"  You'd  be  a  fool  to  answer.  We'll  let  it  go 
at  that.  So  that's  your  wedding  ring,  eh?  Odd 
that  I  shouldn't  have  noticed  it  before." 


MISS  NELLIE  DULUTH  43 

She  was  angry  with  herself,  so  she  vented  the 
displeasure  on  him. 

"  You  never  took  much  notice  of  your  wife's 
wedding  ring,  if  tales  are  true." 

"  Please,  Miss  Duluth,  I " 

"  Oh,  I  read  all  about  the  case,"  she  ran  on. 
"  You  must  have  hated  the  notoriety.  I  sup 
pose  most  of  the  things  she  charged  you  with 
were  lies." 

He  pulled  his  collar  away  from  his  throat. 

"  Is  it  too  hot  in  the  room?  "  she  inquired, 
innocently. 

His  grin  was  a  sickly  one.  "  Do  you  always 
make  it  so  hot!  "  he  asked.  "  This  is  my  first 
visit  to  your  little  paradise,  you  must  remem 
ber.  Don't  make  it  too  hot  for  me." 

"  It  isn't  paradise  when  it  gets  too  hot,"  was 
her  safe  comment. 

Fairfax's  wife  had  divorced  him  a  year  or 
two  before.  The  referee  was  not  long  in  decid 
ing  the  case  in  her  favour.  As  they  were  leav 
ing  Chambers,  Fairfax's  lawyer  had  said  to  his 
client : — ' '  Well,  we  Ve  saved  everything  but 
honour."  And  Fairfax  had  replied: — "  You 
would  have  saved  that,  too,  if  I  had  given  you 
a  free  rein."  From  which  it  may  be  inferred 


44  WHAT'S-HIS-NAME 

that  Fairfax  was  something  of  a  man  despite 
his  lawyer. 

He  was  one  of  those  typical  New  Yorkers  who 
were  Pittsburgers  or  Kansas  Citians  in  the  last 
incarnation — which  dated  back  eight  or  ten 
years,  at  the  most,  and  which  doesn't  make  any 
difference  on  Broadway — with  more  money 
than  he  was  used  to  and  a  measureless  capacity 
for  spending.  His  wife  had  married  him  when 
money  was  an  object  to  him.  When  he  got  all 
the  money  he  wanted  he  went  to  New  York  and 
began  a  process  of  elevating  the  theatre  by  lend 
ing  his  presence  to  the  stage  door.  The  stage 
declined  to  be  elevated  without  the  aid  of  an 
automobile,  so  he  also  lent  that,  and  went  soar 
ing.  His  wife  further  elevated  the  stage  by 
getting  a  divorce  from  him. 

11  This  is  my  first  time  here,"  he  went  on, 
11  but  it  isn't  to  be  the  last,  I  hope.  What  good 
taste  you  have,  Nellie!  It's  a  corking  little 
nest." 

"  I  just  can't  go  out  to  Tarry  town  every 
night,"  she  explained.  "  I  must  have  a  place 
in  town." 

"  By  the  way,"  he  said,  more  at  ease  than 
he  had  been,  "  you  spoke  of  going  to  Tarry- 


MISS  NELLIE  DULUTH  45 

town  on  Sunday.  Let  me  take  you  out  in  the 
motor.  I'd  like  to  see  this  husband  chap  of 
yours  and  the  little  girl,  if 

•' '  Nay,  nay, ' '  she  said,  shaking  her  head.  * '  I 
never  mix  my  public  affairs  with  my  private 
ones.  You  are  a  public  affair,  if  there  ever 
was  one.  No,  little  Nellie  will  go  out  on  the 
ehoo-choos."  She  laughed  suddenly,  as  if 
struck  by  a  funny  thought.  Then,  very  seri 
ously,  she  said: — "  I  don't  know  what  Harvey 
would  do  to  you  if  he  caught  you  with 
me." 

He  stiffened.    "  Jealous,  eh?  " 

"Wildly!" 

"  A  fire-eater?  " 

"  He's  a  perfect  devil,"  said  Nellie,  with  the 
straightest  face  imaginable. 

Fairfax  smiled  in  a  superior  sort  of  way, 
flecked  the  ashes  from  his  cigarette,  and  leaned 
back  in  his  chair  the  better  to  contemplate  the 
charming  creature  at  his  side.  He  thoroughly 
approved  of  jealous  husbands.  The  fellow  who 
isn't  jealous,  he  argued,  is  the  hardest  to  trifle 
with. 

"  I  suppose  you  adore  him,"  he  said,  with  a 
thinly  veiled  sneer. 


46  WHAT'S-HIS-NAME 

"  *  He's  tlie  idol  of  me  'art,'  "  she  sang,  in 
gentle  mimicry. 

"  Lucky  dog,"  he  whispered,  leering  upon 
her.  * '  And  how  trustful  he  is,  leaving  you  here 
in  town  to  face  temptation  alone  while  he  hiber 
nates  in  Tarry  town." 

"  He  trusts  me,"  she  flashed. 

"  I  am  the  original  '  trust  buster,'  "  he 
laughed. 

Nellie  arose  abruptly.  She  stretched  her 
arms  and  yawned.  The  trio  opposite  gave  over 
disputing  about  automobiles,  and  both  men 
looked  at  their  watches. 

"  Go  home,"  said  Nellie.  "I'm  tired. 
We've  got  a  rehearsal  to-morrow." 

No  one  took  offence.  They  understood  her 
ways. 

Fairfax  gave  her  his  light  topcoat  to  hold 
while  he  slipped  into  it.  She  was  vaguely  sur 
prised  that  he  did  not  seek  to  employ  the  old 
trick  of  slipping  an  arm  about  her  during  the 
act.  Somehow  she  felt  a  little  bit  more  of 
respect  for  him. 

"  Don't  forget  to-morrow  night,"  he  said, 
softly,  at  the  door.  "  Just  the  four  of  us,  you 
know.  I'll  come  back  for  you  after  the  play." 


MISS  NELLIE  DULUTH  47 

"  Remember,  it  has  to  be  in  the  main  res 
taurant,"  she  warned  him.  "  I  like  to  see  the 
people." 

He  smiled.  "  Just  as  you  like." 
She  laughed  to  herself  while  Rebecca  was 
preparing  her  for  bed,  tickled  by  the  thought 
of  the  ' '  fire-eating  ' '  Harvey.  In  bed,  however, 
with  the  lights  out,  she  found  that  sleep  would 
not  come  as  readily  as  she  had  expected.  In 
stead  her  mind  was  vividly  awake  and  full  of 
reflections.  She  was  thinking  of  the  two  in 
Tarrytown  asleep  for  hours  and  snugly  com 
placent.  Her  thoughts  suddenly  leaped  back  to 
the  old  days  in  Blakeville  when  she  was  the 
Town  Marshal's  daughter  and  he  the  all-im 
portant  dispenser  of  soft  drinks  at  Davis '.  How 
she  had  hung  on  his  every  word,  quip,  or  jest ! 
How  she  had  looked  forward  to  the  nights  when 
he  was  to  call!  How  she  hated  the  other  girls 
who  divided  with  her  the  attentions  of  this 
popular  young  beau !  And  how  different  every 
thing  was  now  in  these  days  of  affluence  and 
adulation!  She  caught  herself  counting  how 
many  days  it  had  been  since  she  had  seen  her 
husband,  the  one-time  hero  of  her  dreams. 
What  a  home-body  he  was!  What  a  change 


48  WHAT'S-HIS-NAME 

there  was  in  him!  In  the  old  Blakeville  days 
he  was  the  liveliest  chap  in  town.  He  was  never 
passive  for  more  than  a  minute  at  a  stretch. 
Going,  gadding,  frivolling,  flirting — that  was 
the  old  Harvey.  And  now  look  at  him! 

Those  old  days  were  far,  far  away,  so  far 
that  she  was  amazed  that  she  was  able  to  recall 
them.  She  had  sung  in  the  church  choir  and 
at  all  of  the  local  entertainments.  The  praise 
of  the  Blakeville  Patriot  was  as  sweet  incense 
to  her,  the  placid  applause  of  the  mothers' 
meetings  more  riotous  than  anything  she  could 
imagine  in  these  days  when  audiences  stamped 
and  clapped  and  whistled  till  people  in  the 
streets  outside  the  theatre  stopped  and  envied 
those  who  were  inside. 

And  then  the  days  of  actual  courtship;  she 
tried  to  recall  how  and  when  they  began.  She 
married  Harvey  in  the  little  church  on  the  hill. 
Everybody  in  town  was  there.  She  could  close 
her  eyes  now  and  see  Harvey  in  the  new  checked 
suit  he  had  ordered  from  Chicago  especially  for 
the  occasion,  a  splendid  innovation  that  caused 
more  than  one  Lotharial  eye  to  gleam  with 
envy. 

Then   came    the   awakening.     The   popular 


49 

drug  clerk,  for  all  his  show  of  prosperity  and 
progress,  had  not  saved  a  cent  in  all  his  years 
of  labour,  nor  was  there  any  likelihood  of  his 
salary  ever  being  large  enough  to  supply  the 
wants  of  two  persons.  They  went  to  live  with 
his  mother,  and  it  was  not  long  before  he  was 
wearing  the  checked  suit  for  "  everyday  use  " 
as  well  as  for  Sunday. 

She  was  stagestruck.  For  that  matter,  so 
was  he.  They  were  members  of  the  town  dra 
matic  club  and  always  had  important  parts  in 
the  plays.  An  instructor  came  from  Chicago  to 
drill  the  "  members  of  the  cast,"  as  they  were 
designated  by  the  committee  in  charge.  It  was 
this  instructor  who  advised  Nellie  to  go  to  Chi 
cago  for  a  course  in  the  school  he  represented. 
He  assured  her  she  would  have  no  difficulty  in 
getting  on  the  stage. 

Harvey  procured  a  position  in  a  confec 
tioner's  establishment  in  State  Street  and  she 
went  to  work  for  a  photographer,  taking  her 
lessons  in  dancing,  singing,  and  elocution  at 
odd  hours.  She  was  pretty,  graceful,  possessed 
of  a  lovely  figure  not  above  the  medium  height ; 
dark-haired  and  vivacious  after  a  fashion  of 
her  own.  As  her  pleased  husband  used  to  say, 


50  WHAT'S-HIS-NAME 

she  "  got  a  job  on  the  stage  before  you  could 
say  Jack  Robinson."  He  tried  to  get  into  the 
chorus  with  her,  but  the  management  said, 
"  No  husbands  need  apply." 

That  was  the  beginning  of  her  stage  career, 
such  a  few  years  ago  that  she  was  amazed  when 
she  counted  back.  It  seemed  like  ten  years, 
not  five. 

She  soared ;  he  dropped,  and,  as  there  was  no 
occasion  for  rousing  himself,  according  to  the 
point  of  view  established  by  both  of  them,  he 
settled  back  into  his  natural  groove  and  never 
got  beyond  his  soda-fountain  days  in  retrospect. 

The  next  night  after  the  little  supper  at  Nel 
lie's  a  most  astonishing  thing  happened.  A 
smallish  man  with  baby-blue  eyes  appeared  at 
the  box-office  window,  gave  his  name,  and  asked 
for  a  couple  of  good  seats  in  Miss  Duluth's 
name.  The  ticket-seller  had  him  repeat  the 
name  and  then  gruffly  told  him  to  see  the  com 
pany  manager. 

''I'm  Miss  Duluth's  husband,"  said  the 
smallish  man,  shrinking.  The  tall,  flashily 
good-looking  man  at  his  elbow  straightened  up 
and  looked  at  him  with  a  doubtful  expression 
in  his  eyes.  He  was  Mr.  Butler,  Harvey's 


MISS  NELLIE  DULUTH  51 

next-door  neighbour  in  Tarrytown.  "  You 
must  be  new  here." 

' '  Been  here  two  years, ' '  said  the  ticket-seller, 
glaring  at  him.  "  See  the  manager." 

11  Where  is  he?  " 

"  At  his  hotel,  I  suppose.  Please  move  up. 
You're  holding  the  line  back." 

At  that  moment  the  company's  press  repre 
sentative  sauntered  by.  Nellie's  husband,  very 
red  in  the  face  and  humiliated,  hailed  him,  and 
in  three  minutes  was  being  conducted  to  a  seat 
in  the  nineteenth  row,  three  removed  from  the 
aisle,  followed  by  his  Tarrytown  neighbour, 
on  whose  face  there  was  a  frozen  look  of 
disgust. 

"  We'll  go  back  after  the  second  act,"  said 
Harvey,  struggling  with  his  hat,  which  wouldn't 
go  in  the  rack  sideways.  "  I'll  arrange  every 
thing  then." 

11  Kotten  seats,"  said  Mr.  Butler,  who  had 
expected  the  front  row  or  a  box. 

' '  The  scenery  is  always  better  from  the  back 
of  the  house,"  explained  his  host,  uncom 
fortably. 

"  Damn  the  scenery!  "  said  Mr.  Butler.  "  I 
never  look  at  it." 


52  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

"  Wait  till  you  see  the  setting  in  the  sec 
ond "  began  Harvey,  with  forced  enthusi 
asm,  when  the  lights  went  down  and  the  curtain 
was  whisked  upward,  revealing  a  score  of 
pretty  girls  representing  merry  peasants,  in 
costumes  that  cost  a  hundred  dollars  apiece, 
and  glittering  with  diamond  rings. 

Mr.  Butler  glowered  through  the  act.  He 
couldn't  see  a  thing,  he  swore. 

* '  I  should  think  the  husband  of  the  star  could 
get  the  best  seats  in  the  house,"  he  said  when 
the  act  was  half-over,  showing  where  his 
thoughts  were. 

"  That  press  agent  hates  me,"  said  Harvey, 
showing  where  his  had  been. 

"  Hates  you?    In  God's  name,  why?  " 

"  I've  had  to  call  him  down  a  couple  of 
times,"  said  Harvey,  confidentially.  "  Good 
and  hard,  too." 

"  I  suppose  that's  why  he  makes  you  take  a 
back  seat,"  said  Butler,  sarcastically. 

"  Well,  what  can  a  fellow  do?  "  complained 
the  other.  "  If  I  could  have  seen  Mr. " 

A  man  sitting  behind  tapped  him  on  the 
shoulder. 

' '  Will  you  be  good  enough  to  stop  talking 


MISS  NELLIE  DULUTH  53 

while  the  curtain's  up?  "  he  requested,  in  a 
state  of  subdued  belligerency. 

Harvey  subsided  without  even  so  much  as  a 
glance  to  see  what  the  fellow  was  like. 

After  the  act  Butler  suggested  a  drink,  which 
was  declined. 

"  I  don't  drink,"  explained  Harvey. 

His  companion  snorted.  "  I'd  like  to  know 
what  kind  of  a  supper  we're  going  to  have  if 
you  don't  drink.  Be  a  sport!  " 

"  Oh,  don't  you  worry  about  that,"  said  Har 
vey.  "  Ginger  ale  livens  me  up  as  much  as 
anything.  I  used  to  simply  pour  the  liquor 
down  me.  I  had  to  give  it  up.  It  was  getting 
the  best  of  me.  You  should  have  seen  the  way 
I  was  carrying  on  out  there  in  Blakeville  be 
fore " 

"  Well,  come  out  and  watch  me  take  a 
drink,"  interrupted  Butler,  wearily.  "  It  may 
brace  you  up." 

Harvey  looked  helplessly  at  the  three  ladies 
over  whom  they  would  have  to  climb  in  order 
to  reach  the  aisle  and  shook  his  head. 

"  We're  going  out  after  the  next  act.  Let's 
wait  till  then." 

"  Give   me   my    seat    check,"    said   Butler, 


54  WHAT'S-HIS-NAME 

shortly.  "  I'm  going  out."  Keceiving  the 
check,  he  trampled  his  way  out,  leaving  Har 
vey  to  ruminate  alone. 

The  joint  presence  of  these  two  gentlemen  of 
Tarrytown  in  the  city  requires  an  explanation. 
You  may  remember  that  Nellie's  husband  re 
sented  Butler's  habit  of  ignoring  him.  Well, 
there  had  come  a  time  when  Butler  had  thought 
it  advisable  to  get  down  from  his  high  horse. 
His  wife  had  gone  to  Cleveland  to  visit  her 
mother  for  a  week  or  two.  It  was  a  capital 
time  for  him  to  get  better  acquainted  with  Miss 
Duluth,  to  whom  he  had  been  in  the  habit  of 
merely  doffing  his  hat  in  passing. 

The  morning  of  his  wife's  departure,  which 
was  no  more  than  eight  hours  prior  to  their 
appearance  at  the  box  office,  he  made  it  a  point 
to  hail  Harvey  in  a  most  jovial  manner  as  he 
stood  on  his  side  porch,  suggesting  that  he  come 
over  and  see  the  playroom  he  had  fixed  up  for 
his  children  and  Phoebe. 

1 1  We  ought  to  be  more  neighbourly, ' '  he  said, 
as  he  shook  hands  with  Harvey  at  the  steps. 
Later  on,  as  they  smoked  in  the  library,  he 
mentioned  the  fact  that  he  had  not  had  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  Miss  Duluth  in  the  new  piece. 


MISS  NELLIE  DULUTH  55 

Harvey  was  exalted.  When  any  one  was  so 
friendly  as  all  this  to  him  he  quite  lost  his  head 
in  the  clouds. 

"  We'll  go  in  and  see  it  together,"  said  he, 
"  and  have  a  bit  of  supper  afterward." 

"  That's  very  good  of  you,"  said  Butler,  who 
was  gaining  his  point. 

"  When  does  Mrs.  Butler  return?  "  asked 
Harvey. 

Butler  was  startled.    "  Week  or  ten  days." 

11  Well,  just  as  soon  as  she's  back  we'll  have 
a  little  family  party " 

His  neighbour  shook  his  head.  "  My  wife's 
in  mourning, ' '  he  said,  nervously. 

"  In  mourning?  "  said  Harvey,  who  remem 
bered  her  best  in  rainbow  colours. 

11  Yes.    Her  father." 

"  Dead?  " 

"  Certainly,"  said  Butler,  a  trifle  bewildered. 
He  coughed  and  changed  the  current  of  con 
versation.  It  was  not  at  all  necessary  to  say 
that  his  wife's  father  had  been  dead  eleven 
years.  "  I  thought  something  of  going  in  to 
the  theatre  to-night,"  he  went  on.  "  Just  to 
kill  time.  It  will  be  very  lonely  for  me,  now 
that  my  dear  wife's  away." 


56  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

Harvey  fell  into  the  trap.  "  By  jinks!  "  he 
exclaimed,  li  what's  the  matter  with  me  going 
in,  too?  I  haven't  been  in  town  at  night  for  six 
weeks  or  more." 

Butler's  black  eyes  gleamed. 

"  Excellent!  We'll  see  a  good  play,  have  a 
bite  to  eat,  and  no  one  will  know  what  gay  dogs 
we  are."  He  laughed  and  slapped  Harvey  on 
the  back. 

"  I'll  get  seats  for  Nellie's  show  if  you'd  like 
to  see  it,"  said  Harvey,  just  as  enthusiastically, 
except  that  he  slapped  the  arm  of  the  chair  and 
peeled  his  knuckle  on  a  knob  he  hadn't  seen. 

"  Great!  " 

"  And  say,  I'd  like  you  to  know  my  wife  bet 
ter,  Mr.  Butler.  If  you  don't  object  I'll  ask 
her  to  go  out  with  us  after  the  show  for  some 
thing  to  eat." 

"  Permit  me  to  remind  you,  Mr. — Mr. — 
er " 

"  Call  me  Harvey,"  said  the  owner  of  the 
name. 

' ' to  remind  you  that  this  is  my  party.  I 

will  play  host  and  be  honoured  if  your  wife  will 
condescend  to  join  me — and  you — at  any  hour 
and  place  she  chooses." 


MISS  NELLIE  DULUTH  57 

"  You  are  most  kind,"  said  Harvey,  who  had 
been  mentally  calculating  the  three  one-dollar 
bills  in  his  pocket. 

And  that  is  how  they  came  to  be  in  the  theatre 
that  night. 

The  curtain  was  up  when  Butler  returned. 
He  had  had  a  drink. 

"  Did  you  send  a  note  back  to  your  wife?  " 
he  asked  as  he  sat  down. 

"  What  for?  " 

"  To  tell  her  we  are  here,"  hissed  the  other. 

"  No,  I  didn't,"  said  Harvey,  calmly.  "  I 
want  to  surprise  her." 

Butler  said  something  under  his  breath  and 
was  so  mad  during  the  remainder  of  the  act 
that  everybody  on  the  stage  seemed  to  be 
dressed  in  red. 

Miss  Duluth  did  not  have  to  make  a  change 
of  costume  between  the  second  and  third  acts. 
It  was  then  that  she  received  visitors  in  her 
dressing-room.  She  had  a  sandwich  and  a 
glass  of  milk  at  that  time,  but  was  perfectly 
willing  to  send  across  the  alley  for  bottled  beer 
if  her  callers  cared  to  take  anything  so  com 
monplace  as  that. 

She  was  sitting  in  her  room,  quite  alone,  with 


58  WHAT'S-HIS-NAME 

her  feet  cocked  upon  a  trunk,  nibbling  a  sand 
wich  and  thinking  of  the  supper  Fairfax  was 
to  give  later  on  in  the  evening,  when  the  man 
ager  of  the  company  came  tapping  at  her  door. 
People  had  got  in  the  habit  of  walking  in  upon 
her  so  unexpectedly  that  she  issued  an  order 
for  every  one  to  knock  and  then  made  the  in 
junction  secure  by  slipping  the  bolt.  Rebecca 
went  to  the  door. 

"  Mr.  Fairfax  is  here,  mademoiselle,"  she 
announced  a  moment  later.  "  Mr.  Ripton  has 
brought  him  back  and  he  wants  to  come  in." 
Except  for  the  word  ' '  mademoiselle  ' '  Rebecca 
spoke  perfect  English. 

Nellie  took  one  foot  down  and  then,  thinking 
quickly,  put  it  up  again.  It  wouldn  't  hurt  Fair 
fax,  she  argued,  to  encounter  a  little  opposition. 

"  Tell  Ripton  I'm  expecting  some  one  else," 
she  said,  at  random.  "  If  Mr.  Fairfax  wants 
to  wait  in  the  wings,  I'll  see  him  there." 

But  she  had  not  the  slightest  inkling  of  what 
was  in  store  for  her  in  the  shape  of  visitors. 

At  that  very  moment  Harvey  and  his  friend 
were  at  the  stage  door,  the  former  engaged  in 
an  attempt  at  familiarity  with  the  smileless 
attendant. 


MISS  NELLIE  DULUTH  59 

"  Hello,  Bob;  how  goes  it?  "  said  he,  strut 
ting  up  to  the  door. 

Bob's  bulk  blocked  the  passage. 

"  Who  d'you  want  to  see!  "  he  demanded, 
gruffly. 

"  Who  d'you  suppose?  "  asked  Harvey, 
gaily. 

"  Don't  get  fresh,"  snapped  the  door  man, 
making  as  if  to  slam  the  iron  door  in  his  face. 
Suddenly  he  recognised  the  applicant.  "  Oh, 
it's  you,  is  it?  " 

"  You  must  be  going  blind,  Bobby,"  said 
Harvey,  in  a  fine  effort  at  geniality.  "I'm  tak 
ing  a  friend  in  to  show  him  how  it's  done.  My 
friend,  Mr.  Butler,  Bob." 

Mr.  Butler  stepped  on  Harvey's  toes  and  said 
something  under  his  breath. 

"  Is  Miss  Duluth  expecting  you,  Mr. — er — 
Mr.— Is  she?  "  asked  old  Bob. 

"  No.    I'm  going  to  surprise  her." 

Bob  looked  over  his  shoulder  hastily. 

"  If  I  was  you,"  he  said,  "I'd  send  my  card 
in.  She's — she's  nervous  and  a  shock  might 
upset  her." 

"  She  hasn't  got  a  nerve  in  her  body," 
said  Harvey.  "  Come  on,  Butler.  Mind  you 


60  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

don't  fall  over  the  braces  or  get  hit  by  the 
scenery. ' ' 

They  climbed  a  couple  of  steps  and  were  in 
the  midst  of  a  small,  bustling  army  of  scene 
shifters  and  property  men.  Old  Bob  scratched 
his  head  and  muttered  something  about  "  sur 
prises." 

Three  times  Harvey  tried  to  lead  the  way 
across  the  stage.  Each  time  they  were  turned 
back  by  perspiring,  .evil-minded  stage  hands 
who  rushed  at  them  with  towering,  toppling 
canvases.  Once  Harvey  nearly  sat  down  when 
an  unobserving  hand  jerked  a  strip  of  carpet 
from  under  his  feet.  A  grand  staircase  almost 
crushed  Mr.  Butler  on  its  way  into  place,  and 
some  one  who  seemed  to  be  in  authority  shouted 
to  him  as  he  dodged: — 

"  Don't  knock  that  pe-des-tal  over,  you  pie 
face!  " 

At  last  they  got  safely  over,  and  Harvey 
boldly  walked  up  to  the  star's  dressing-room. 

«  We're  all  right  now,"  he  said  to  Butler, 
with  a  perceptible  quaver  in  his  voice.  "  Just 
you  wait  while  I  go  in  and  tell  her  I  am 
here. ' ' 

Butler  squeezed  himself  into  a  narrow  place, 


MISS  NELLIE  DULUTH  61 

where  he  seemed  safe  from  death,  mopped  his 
brow,  and  looked  like  a  lost  soul. 

Two  men,  sitting  off  to  the  left,  saw  Harvey 
try  the  locked  door  and  then  pound  rather  im 
peratively. 

"  Good  Lord!  "  exclaimed  one  of  them,  star 
ing.  "  It's — it's — er — What's-His-Name,  Nel 
lie's  husband!  Well,  of  all  the  infernal " 

"  That?  "  gasped  Fairfax. 

"  What  in  thunder  is  he  doing  here  this 
time  o'  night!  Great  Scott,  he'll  spoil  every 
thing,"  groaned  Eipton,  the  manager. 

Harvey  pounded  again  with  no  response. 
Nellie  was  sitting  inside,  mentally  picturing 
the  eagerness  that  caused  Fairfax  to  come 
a-pounding  like  that.  She  had  decided  not  to 
answer. 

Eipton  called  a  stage  hand. 

"  Tell  him  that  Nellie  isn't  seeing  anybody 
to-night,"  he  whispered.  "  Do  it  quick.  Get 
him  out  of  here." 

"  Shall  I  throw  him  out,  sir!  "  demanded 
the  man,  with  a  wry  face.  "  Poor  little 
chap !  ' ' 

"  Just  tell  him  that  Nellie  will  see  him  for  a 
few  minutes  after  the  play. ' '  Then,  as  the  man 


62  WHAT'S-HIS-NAME 

moved  away: — "  They've  got  no  business 
having  husbands,  Mr.  Fairfax.  Damned 
nuisances." 

Fairfax  had  his  hand  to  his  lips.  He  was 
thinking  of  Nellie's  "  perfect  devil." 

"  I  fancy  he  doesn't  cut  much  of  a  figure  in 
her  life,"  said  he,  in  a  tone  of  relief. 

In  the  meantime  the  stage  hand  had  accosted 
Harvey,  who  had  been  joined  by  the  anxious 
Mr.  Butler. 

11  Miss  Duluth  ain't  seeing  any  one  to-night, 
sir,"  he  said.  "  She  gave  strict  orders.  No 
one,  sir." 

Harvey's  blue  eyes  were  like  delft  saucers. 
"  She'll  see  me,"  he  said.  "I'm  her  husband, 
you  know." 

"  I  know  that,  sir.  But  the  order  goes,  just 
the  same." 

"  Is  she  ill?  " 

"  Yes,  sir.    Very  ill,"  said  the  man,  quickly. 

Butler  was  gnawing  his  moustache. 

*  *  Rubbish !  "  he  said,  sharply.  l '  Come  away, 
you.  She's  got  a  visitor  in  there.  Can't  you 
see  the  lay  of  the  land!  " 

The  little  husband  turned  cold,  then  hot. 

"  A — a  man  visitor?  " 


MISS  NELLIE  DULUTH  63 

"  Certainly,"  snapped  the  aggrieved  Mr. 
Butler.  "  What  else?  " 

Without  another  word,  Harvey  brushed  past 
the  stage  hand  and  began  rattling  the  door  vio 
lently. 

"  Nellie!  "  he  shouted,  his  lips  close  to  the 
paint. 

In  a  second  the  door  flew  open  and  the  as 
tonished  actress  stood  there  staring  at  him  as 
if  he  were  a  ghost.  He  pushed  the  door  wide 
open  and  strode  into  the  dressing-room,  Nellie 
falling  back  before  him.  The  room  was  empty 
save  for  the  dismayed  Rebecca. 

"  There!  "  he  exclaimed,  turning  to  address 
Butler  in  the  doorway,  but  Butler  was  not 
there.  The  stage  hand  had  got  in  his  way. 

"  Wha — what,  in  the  name  of  Heaven,  are 
you  doing  here,  Harvey?  "  gasped  Nellie. 

"  How  are  you,  Nell?  Nothing  serious,  I 
hope." 

"  Serious?  "  she  murmured,  swallowing  hard, 
her  wits  in  the  wind. 

44  Ain't  you  ill?  " 

11  Never  was  better  in  my  life,"  she  cried, 
seeing  what  she  thought  was  light.  * '  Who 
brought  you  to  town  with  such  a  tale  as  that? 


64  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

I'm  fine.  You've  been  fooled.  If  I  were  you, 
I'd  take  the  first  train  out  and  try  to  find  out 
who " 

11  It's  all  right,  Butler,"  he  called  out. 
"  Come  right  in.  Hello!  Where  are  you?  " 
He  stepped  to  the  door  and  looked  out.  Mr. 
Butler  was  being  conducted  toward  the  stage 
door  by  the  burly  stage  hand.  He  was  trying 
to  expostulate.  "Hi I  What  you  doing?" 
shouted  Harvey,  darting  after  them.  *  *  Let  my 
friend  alone!  " 

Up  came  Kipton  in  haste. 

"  O'Brien,  what  do  you  mean?  Take  your 
hand  off  that  gentleman's  shoulder  at  once.  He 
is  a  friend  of  Mr. — Mr. — ahem !  A  terrible  mis 
take,  sir." 

Then  followed  a  moment  of  explanation, 
apology,  and  introduction,  after  which  Harvey 
fairly  dragged  his  exasperated  friend  back  to 
Nellie's  room. 

She  was  still  standing  in  the  middle  of  the 
room  trying  to  collect  her  wits. 

"  You  remember  Mr.  Butler,  deary,"  panted 
Harvey,  waving  his  hand.  Nellie  gasped  in  the 
affirmative. 

At  that  instant  Fairfax's  big  frame  appeared 


MISS  NELLIE  DULUTH  65 

in  the  door.  He  was  grinning  amiably.  She 
glared  at  him  helplessly  for  a  moment. 

"  Won't  you  introduce  me  to  your  hus 
band?  "  he  said,  suavely. 

Nellie  found  her  tongue  and  the  little  man 
shook  hands  with  the  big  one. 

"  Glad  to  meet  you,"  said  Harvey. 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  you,"  said  Fairfax, 
warmly. 

"  My  friend  Butler,"  introduced  Harvey. 

Mr.  Butler  was  standing  very  stiff  and  pal 
lid,  with  one  knee  propped  against  a  chair. 
There  was  a  glaze  over  his  eyes.  Fairfax 
grinned  broadly. 

"  Oh,  Butler  and  I  are  old  acquaintances," 
said  he.  "  Wife  out  of  town,  Butler?  " 

11  Sure,"  said  Harvey,  before  Butler  could 
reply.  "  And  we're  in  town  to  see  the  sights. 
Eh,  Butler?  " 

Butler  muttered  something  that  sounded  un 
commonly  like  "  confounded  ass,"  and  began 
fanning  himself  with  his  derby  hat  and  gloves 
and  walking-stick,  all  of  which  happened  to  be 
in  the  same  hand. 

"  We're  going  to  take  Nellie — I  mean  Miss 
Duluth — out  for  supper  after  the  play,"  went 


66  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

on  Harvey,  glibly.  "  We'll  be  waiting  for  you, 
dearie.  Mr.  Butler  is  doing  the  honours.  By 
the  way,  Butler,  I  think  it  would  be  nicer  if 
Nellie  could  suggest  an  odd  lady  for  us.  We 
ought  to  have  four.  Do  you  know  of  any  one, 
Nell?  By  George,  we've  got  to  have  a  pretty 
one,  though.  We  insist  on  that,  eh,  Butler!  ' 
He  jabbed  Butler  in  the  ribs  and  winked. 

"Don't  do  that!"  said  the  unhappy  Mr. 
Butler,  dropping  his  stick.  It  rolled  under  a 
table  and  he  seized  the  opportunity  thus  provi 
dentially  presented.  He  went  down  after  it 
and  was  lost  to  view  for  a  considerable  length 
of  time,  hiding  himself  as  the  ostrich  does  when 
it  buries  its  head  in  the  sand  and  imagines  it  is 
completely  out  of  sight. 

Nellie's  wits  were  returning.  She  was 
obliged  to  do  some  rapid  and  clever  thinking. 
Fairfax  was  watching  her  with  a  sardonic  smile 
on  his  lips.  Ripton,  the  manager,  peered  over 
his  shoulder  and  winked  violently. 

"  Oh,  Harvey  dear,"  she  cried,  plaintively, 
"  how  disappointed  I  am.  I  have  had  strict  or 
ders  from  the  doctor  to  go  straight  home  to  bed 
after  every  performance.  I  really  can't  go  with 
you  and  Mr.  Butler  to-night.  I  wish  you  had 


Fairfax  was  witting  on  a  trunk,  a  satisfied  smile  on 
his  lips 


MISS  NELLIE  DULUTH  67 

telephoned  or  something.  I  could  have  told 
you." 

Harvey  looked  distressed.  "  What  does  the 
doctor  say  it  is!  ' 

"  My  heart,"  she  said,  solemnly, 

"  Don't  you  think  you  could  go  out  for  a — 
just  a  sandwich  and  a  bottle  of  beer?  "  he 
pleaded,  feeling  that  he  had  wantonly  betrayed 
his  friendly  neighbour. 

"Couldn't  think  of  it,"  she  said.  "The 
nurse  will  be  here  at  eleven.  I'll  just  have  to 
go  home.  He  insists  on  absolute  quiet  for  me 
and  I'm  on  a  dreadful  diet."  A  bright  thought 
struck  her.  "  Do  you  know,  I  have  to  keep  my 
door  locked  so  as  not  to  be  startled  by " 

The  sharp,  insistent  voice  of  the  callboy 
broke  in  on  her  flow  of  excuses. 

' '  There !  I  '11  have  to  go  on  in  a  second.  The 
curtain's  going  up.  Good-night,  gentlemen. 
Good-night,  Harvey  dear.  Give  me  a  kiss." 

She  pecked  at  his  cheek  with  her  carmine 
lips. 

"  Just  half  an  hour  at  some  quiet  little  res 
taurant,  ' '  he  was  saying  when  she  fled  past  him 
toward  the  stage. 

"  Sorry,  dear,"  she  called,  then  stopped  to 


68  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

speak  to  Mr.  Butler.  "  Thank  you  so  much, 
Mr.  Butler.  Won't  you  repeat  the  invitation 
some  time  later  on?  So  good  of  you  to  bring 
Harvey  in.  Bring  Mrs.  Butler  in  some  night, 
and  if  I'm  better  we  will  have  a  jolly  little 
spree,  just  the  four  of  us.  Will  you  do 
it?" 

She  beamed  on  him.  Butler  bowed  very  low 
and  said: — 

"  It  will  give  me  great  pleasure,  Miss  Du- 
luth." 

"  Good-night,  then." 

"  Good-night." 

When  she  returned  to  her  dressing-room  later 
on,  she  found  Fairfax  there,  sitting  on  a  trunk, 
a  satisfied  smile  on  his  lips.  She  left  the  door 
open. 

Mr.  Eipton  conducted  the  two  men  across  to 
the  stage  door,  leading  them  through  the  nar 
row  space  back  of  the  big  drop.  Chorus  girls 
threw  kisses  at  Harvey ;  they  all  knew  him.  He 
winked  blandly  at  Butler,  who  was  staring 
straight  before  him. 

"  A  great  life,  eh?  "  said  Harvey,  meaning 
that  which  surrounded  them.  They  were  in  the 
alley  outside  the  stage  door. 


MISS  NELLIE  DULUTH  69 

"I'm  going  to  catch  the  ten- twenty,"  said 
Butler,  jamming  his  hat  down  firmly. 

"  Ain't  you  going  to  see  the  last  act?  "  de 
manded  the  other,  dismayed. 

Butler  lifted  his  right  hand  to  heaven,  and, 
shaking  it  the  better  to  express  the  intensity 
of  his  declaration,  remarked: — 

'  *  I  hope  somebody  will  kick  me  all  over  town 
if  I'm  ever  caught  being  such  a  damned  fool 
as  this  again.  I  honestly  hope  it!  I've  been 
made  ridiculous — a  blithering  fool!  Why,  you 

— you "  He  paused  in  his  rage,  a  sudden 

wave  of  pity  assailing  him.  "  By  George,  I 
can't  help  feeling  sorry  for  you!  Good-night." 

Harvey  hurried  after  him. 

"  I  guess  I'll  take  it,  too.  That  gets  us  out 
at  eleven-thirty.  We  can  get  a  bite  to  eat  in 
the  station,  I  guess." 

He  had  to  almost  trot  to  keep  pace  with  But 
ler  crossing  to  the  Grand  Central.  Seated  side 
by  side  in  the  train,  and  after  he  had  recovered 
his  breath  a  bit,  he  said : — 

"  Confound  it,  I  forgot  to  ask  Nellie  if  it 
will  be  wise  for  her  to  come  out  on  Sunday.  The 
heart's  a  mighty  bad  thing,  Butler." 

' '  It  certainly  is, ' '  said  Butler,  with  unction. 


70  WHAT'S-HIS-NAME 

At  the  station  in  Tarrytown  he  said."  Good 
night  "  very  gruffly  and  hurried  off  to  jump 
into  the  only  cab  at  the  platform.  He  had  heard 
all  about  Blakeville  and  the  wild  life  Harvey 
had  led  there,  and  he  was  mad  enough  to  fight. 

"  Good-night,  Mr.  Butler,"  said  Harvey,  as 
the  hack  drove  off. 

He  walked  up  the  hill. 


CHAPTER 


MR.    FAIRFAX 

HE  found  the  nursemaid  up  and  waiting  for 
him.  Phoebe  had  a  "  dreadful  throat  "  and  a 
high  temperature.  It  had  come  on  very  sud 
denly,  it  seems,  and  if  Annie's  memory  served 
her  right  it  was  just  the  way  diphtheria  began. 
The  little  girl  had  been  thrashing  about  in  the 
bed  and  whimpering  for  "  daddy  "  since  eight 
o'clock.  His  heart  sank  like  lead,  to  a  far 
deeper  level  than  it  had  dropped  with  the  base 
desertion  of  Butler.  Filled  with  remorse,  he 
ran  upstairs  without  taking  off  his  hat  or  over 
coat.  The  feeling  of  resentment  toward  Butler 
was  lost  in  this  new,  overpowering  sense  of 
dread  ;  the  discovery  of  his  own  lamentable  un- 
fitness  for  '  '  high  life  '  '  expeditions  faded  into 
nothingness  in  the  face  of  this  possible  catas 
trophe.  What  if  Phoebe  were  to  die  ?  He  would 
be  to  blame.  He  remembered  feeling  that  he 
should  not  have  left  her  that  evening.  It  had 
been  a  premonition,  and  this  was  to  be  the  price 
of  his  folly. 

71 


,72  WHAT'S-HIS-NAME 

At  three  in  the  morning  he  went  over  to 
rouse  the  doctor,  all  the  time  thinking  that,  even 
if  he  were  capable  of  forgiving  himself  for 
Phoebe's  death,  Nellie  would  always  hold  him 
responsible.  The  doctor  refused  to  come  before 
eight  o'clock,  and  slammed  the  door  in  the  dis 
turber's  face. 

"  If  she  dies,"  he  said  to  himself  over  and 
over  again  as  he  trudged  homeward,  "  I'll  kill 
that  beast  of  a  doctor.  I'll  tear  his  heart  out." 

The  doctor  did  not  come  till  nine-thirty.  They 
never  do.  He  at  once  said  it  was  a  bad  attack 
of  tonsilitis,  and  began  treatment  on  the  stom 
ach.  He  took  a  culture  and  said  he  would  let 
Mr. — Mr.  What's-His-Name  know  whether 
there  was  anything  diphtheritic.  In  the  mean 
time,  * '  Take  good  care  of  her. ' ' 

Saturday  morning  a  loving  note  came  from 
Nellie,  deploring  the  fact  that  she  couldn  't  come 
out  on  Sunday  after  all.  The  doctor  said  she 
must  save  her  strength.  She  instructed  Har 
vey  to  dismiss  Bridget  and  get  another  cook 
at  once.  But  Harvey's  heart  had  melted  to 
ward  Bridget.  The  big  Irishwoman  was  the 
soul  of  kindness  now  that  her  employer  was  in 
distress. 


MB.  FAIRFAX  73 

About  nine  o'clock  that  morning  a  man  came 
up  and  tacked  a  placard  on  the  door  and  in 
formed  the  household  that  it  was  in  quaran 
tine.  Harvey  went  out  and  looked  at  the  card. 
Then  he  slunk  back  into  Phoebe 's  room  and  sat 
down,  very  white  and  scared. 

"  Do  you  think  she'll  die?  "  he  asked 
of  the  doctor  when  that  gentleman  called 
soon  afterward.  He  was  shivering  like  a 
leaf. 

"  Not  necessarily,"  said  the  man  of  medi 
cine,  calmly.  "  Diphtheria  isn't  what  it  used 
to  be." 

"  If  she  dies  I'll  jump  in  the  river,"  said 
the  little  father,  bleakly. 

"  Nonsense!  "  said  the  doctor.  "  Can  you 
swim?  "  he  added,  whimsically. 

"  No,"  said  Harvey,  his  face  lighting  up. 

The  doctor  patted  him  on  the  back.  "  Brace 
up,  sir.  Has  the  child  a  mother?  " 

Harvey  stared  at  him.  ' l  Of  course, ' '  he  said. 
"  Don't  you  know  whose  child  you  are  'tend 
ing?  " 

"  I  confess  I — er — I " 

"  She  is  the  daughter  of  Nellie  Duluth." 

11  Oh!  "  fell  from  the  doctor's  lips.    "  And 


74  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

you — you  are  Miss  Duluth's  husband!  I  didn't 
quite  connect  the  names." 

"  Well,  I'm  her  husband,  name  or  no 
name,"  explained  the  other.  "  I  suppose 
I  ought  to  send  for  her.  She  ought  to 
know. ' ' 

"  Are  you — er — separated?  " 

*  *  Not  at  all, ' '  said  Harvey.  ' l  I  maintain  two 
establishments,  that's  all.  One  here,  one  in  the 
city." 

"  Oh,  I  see/'  said  the  doctor,  who  didn't  in 
the  least  see.  "  Of  course,  she  would  be  subject 
to  quarantine  rules  if  she  came  here,  Mr. — Mr. — 
ahem!  " 

"  They  couldn't  get  along  without  her  at  the 
theatre,"  groaned  the  husband. 

"  I'd  suggest  waiting  a  day  or  two.  Believe 
me,  my  dear  sir,  the  child  will  pull  through.  I 
will  do  all  that  can  be  done,  sir.  Best  easy." 
His  manner  was  quite  different,  now  that  he 
knew  the  importance  of  his  patient.  He  re 
adjusted  his  glasses  and  cleared  his  throat.  ' '  I 
hope  to  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  Mrs. — er — 
your  wife,  sir." 

' '  She  has  a  regular  physician  in  town, ' '  said 
Harvey,  politely. 


ME.  FAIEFAX  75 

For  two  weeks  he  nursed  Phoebe,  day  and 
night,  announcing  to  the  doctor  in  the  begin 
ning  that  his  early  training  made  him  quite 
capable.  There  were  moments  when  he  thought 
she  was  dying,  but  they  passed  so  quickly  that 
his  faith  in  the  physician's  assurances  rose 
above  his  fears.  Acting  on  the  purely  unselfish 
motive  that  Nellie  would  be  upset  by  the  news, 
he  kept  the  truth  from  her,  and  she  went  on 
singing  and  dancing  without  so  much  as  a  word 
to  distress  her.  Two  Sundays  passed;  her  own 
lamentable  illness  kept  her  away  from  the  little 
house  in  Tarrytown. 

"  If  we  tell  her  about  Phoebe,"  said  Harvey 
to  Bridget  and  Annie,  "  she'll  go  all  to  pieces. 
Her  heart  may  stop,  like  as  not.  Besides,  she'd 
insist  on  coming  out  and  taking  care  of  her,  and 
that  would  be  fatal  to  the  show.  She's  never 
had  diphtheria.  She'd  be  sure  to  catch  it.  It 
goes  very  hard  with  grown  people." 

"  Have  you  ever  had  it,  sir?  "  asked  Annie, 
anxiously. 

«  Three  times,"  said  Harvey,  who  hadn't 
thought  of  it  up  to  that  moment. 

When  the  child  was  able  to  sit  up  he  put  in 
his  time  reading  "  David  Copperfield  "  to  her. 


76  WHAT  'S-HIS-N  AME 

Later  on  he  played  "  jacks  "  with  her  and  cut 
pictures  out  of  the  comic  supplements.  By  the 
end  of  the  month  he  was  thinner  and  more 
"  peaked,"  if  anything,  than  she.  Unshaven, 
unshorn,  unpressed  was  he,  but  he  was  too  full 
of  joy  to  give  heed  to  his  own  personal  com 
forts  or  requirements. 

His  mind  was  beginning  to  be  sorely  troubled 
over  one  thing.  Now  that  Phoebe  was  well  and 
getting  strong  he  realised  that  Nellie  would  be 
furious  when  she  found  out  how  ill  the  child 
had  been  and  how  she  had  been  deceived.  He 
considered  the  advisability  of  keeping  it  from 
her  altogether,  swearing  every  one  to  secrecy, 
but  there  was  the  doctor's  bill  to  be  paid.  When 
it  came  to  paying  that  Nellie  would  demand  an 
explanation.  It  was  utterly  impossible  for  him 
to  pay  it  himself.  Thinking  over  his  unhappy 
position,  he  declared,  with  a  great  amount  of 
zeal,  but  no  vigour,  that  he  was  going  to  get 
a  job  and  be  independent  once  more.  More 
than  that,  when  he  got  fairly  well  established 
in  his  position  (he  rather  leaned  toward  the 
drug  or  the  restaurant  business)  he  would  in 
sist  on  Nellie  giving  up  her  arduous  stage  work 
and  settling  down  to  enjoy  a  life  of  comfort 


ME.  FAIRFAX  77 

and  ease — even  luxury,  if  things  went  as  he 
meant  them  to  go. 

One  afternoon  late  in  October,  when  the  scar 
let  leaves  were  blowing  across  his  little  front 
yard  and  the  screens  had  been  taken  from  the 
windows,  a  big  green  automobile  stopped  at  his 
gate  and  a  tall  man  got  out  and  came  briskly 
up  the  walk.  Harvey  was  sitting  in  the 
library  helping  Phoebe  with  her  ABC's  when 
he  caught  sight  of  the  visitor  crossing  the 
porch. 

"  Gentleman  to  see  you,"  said  Annie,  a  mo 
ment  later. 

"  Is  it  the  butcher's  man?  I  declare,  I  must 
get  in  and  attend  to  that  little  account.  Tell 
him  I'll  be  in,  Annie. " 

11  It  ain't  the  butcher.    It's  a  swell." 

Harvey  got  up,  felt  of  the  four  days'  growth 
of  beard  on  his  chin,  and  pondered. 

"  Did  he  give  his  name?  " 

11  Mr.  Fairfax,  he  said." 

He  remembered  Fairfax.  His  hand  ran  over 
his  chin  once  more. 

11  Tell  him  to  come  in.  I'll  be  down  in  fifteen 
minutes." 

He  went  upstairs  on  the  jump  and  got  his 


78  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

razor  out.  He  was  nervous.  Only  that  morn 
ing  he  had  written  to  Nellie  telling  her  of 
Phoebe's  expensive  illness  and  of  her  joyous 
recovery.  The  doctor's  bill  was  ninety  dol 
lars.  He  cut  himself  in  three  places. 

Fairfax  was  sitting  near  the  window  talking 
with  Phoebe  when  he  clattered  downstairs  ten 
minutes  later,  deploring  the  cuts  but  pleased 
with  himself  for  having  broken  all  records  at 
shaving.  The  big  New  Yorker  had  a  way  with 
him ;  he  could  interest  children  as  well  as  their 
mothers  and  grown  sisters.  Phoebe  was  tell 
ing  him  about  "  Jack  the  Giant  Killer  "  when 
her  father  popped  into  the  room. 

' '  Phoebe !  "  he  cried,  stopping  short  in 
horror. 

Fairfax  arose  languidly. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Mr. — ah — ahem!  The  lit 
tle  girl  has  been  playing  hostess.  The  fifteen 
minutes  have  flown." 

11  Ten  minutes  by  my  watch,"  said  Harvey, 
promptly.  "  Phoebe,  dear,  where  did  you  get 
that  awful  dress — and,  oh,  my!  those  dirty 
hands!  Where's  Annie?  Annie's  the  nurse, 
Mr.  Fairfax.  Run  right  away  and  tell  her  to 
change  that  dress  and  wash  your  hands.  How 


MR.  FAIRFAX  79 

do  you  do,  Mr.  Fairfax?  Glad  to  see  you.  How 
are  you?  ' 

He  advanced  to  shake  the  big  man's  hand. 
Fairfax  towered  over  him. 

"  I  was  afraid  you  would  not  remember  me," 
said  Fairfax. 

"  Run  along,  Phoebe.  She's  been  very  ill, 
you  see.  We  don't  make  life  any  harder  for 
her  than  we  have  to.  Washing  gets  on  a 
child's  nerves,  don't  you  think?  It  used  to 
on  mine,  I  know.  Of  course  I  remember 
you.  Won't  you  sit  down?  Annie!  Oh, 
Annie !  ' ' 

He  called  into  the  stair  hallway  and  Annie 
appeared  from  the  dining-room. 

' '  Ann — Oh,  here  you  are !  How  many  times 
must  I  tell  you  to  put  a  clean  dress  on  Phoebe 
every  day?  What  are  her  dresses  for,  I'd  like 
to  know?  "  He  winked  violently  at  Annie  from 
the  security  of  the  portiere,  which  he  held  at 
arm's  length  as  a  shield.  Annie  arose  to  the 
occasion  and  winked  back. 

"  May  I  put  on  my  Sunday  dress?  "  cried 
Phoebe,  gleefully. 

"  Only  one  of  'em,"  said  he,  in  haste.  "  An 
nie  will  pick  out  one  for  you." 


80  WHAT'S-HIS-NAME 

Considerably  bewildered,  Phoebe  was  led 
away  by  the  nurse. 

"  She's  a  pretty  child, "  said  Fairfax.  If 
his  manner  was  a  trifle  strained  Harvey  failed 
to  make  note  of  it.  "  Looks  like  her  mother." 

"  I'm  glad  you  think  so,"  said  the  father,  ra 
diantly.  "I'd  hate  to  have  her  look  like  me." 

Fairfax  looked  him  over  and  suppressed  a 
smile. 

"  She  is  quite  happy  here  with  you,  I  sup 
pose,"  he  said,  taking  a  chair. 

"  Yes,  sirree." 

"  Does  she  never  long  to  be  with  her 
mother?  ' 

' '  Well,  you  see,"  said  Harvey,  apologising  for 
Nellie,  "  she  doesn't  see  much  of  Miss — of  her 
mother  these  days.  I  guess  she's  got  kind  of 
used  to  being  with  me.  Kids  are  funny  things, 
you  know." 

"  She  seems  to  have  all  the  comforts  and 
necessities  of  life,"  said  the  big  man,  looking 
about  him  with  an  affectation  of  approval. 

"  Everything  that  I  can  afford,  sir,"  said 
Harvey,  blandly. 

"  Have  you  ever  thought  of  putting  her  in 
a  nice  school  for " 


ME.  FAIEFAX  81 

"  She  enters  kindergarten  before  the  holi 
days,"  interrupted  the  father. 

"  I  mean  a — er — sort  of  boarding  school," 
put  in  the  big  man,  uneasily.  ' '  Where  she  could 
be  brought  up  under  proper  influences,  polished 
up,  so  to  speak.  You  know  what  I  mean.  Miss 
Duluth  has  often  spoken  of  such  an  arrange 
ment.  In  fact,  her  heart  seems  to  be  set  on 
it." 

' '  You  mean  she — she  wants  to  send  her  away 
to  school?  "  asked  Harvey,  blankly. 

"  It  is  a  very  common  and  excellent  practice 
nowadays,"  said  the  other,  lamely. 

The  little  man  was  staring  at  him,  his  blue 
eyes  full  of  dismay. 

"  Why— why,  I  don't  believe  I'd  like  that," 
he  said,  grasping  the  arms  of  his  chair  with 
tense  fingers.  "  She's  doing  all  right  here.  It's 
healthy  here,  and  I  am  sure  the  schools  are 
good  enough.  Nellie  has  never  said  anything 
to  me  about  boarding  school.  Why — why,  Mr. 
Fairfax,  Phoebe's  only  five — not  quite  that,  and 
I — I  think  it  would  be  cruel  to  put  her  off  among 
strangers.  When  she's  fifteen  or  sixteen, 
maybe,  but  not  now.  Nellie  don't  mean  that, 
I'm  sure." 


82  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

11  There  is  a  splendid  school  for  little  girls 
up  in  Montreal — a  sort  of  convent,  you  know. 
They  get  the  best  of  training,  moral,  spiritual, 
and  physical.  It  is  an  ideal  life  for  a  child. 
Nellie  has  been  thinking  a  great  deal  of  send 
ing  her  there.  In  fact,  she  has  practically  de 
cided  to " 

Harvey  came  to  his  feet  slowly,  dizzily. 

"  I  can't  believe  it.  She  wouldn't  send  the 
poor  little  thing  up  there  all  alone;  no,  sir!  I 
— I  wouldn  't  let  her  do  it. ' '  He  was  pacing  the 
floor.  His  forehead  was  moist. 

1 1  Miss  Duluth  appreciates  one  condition  that 
you  don't  seem  able  to  grasp,"  said  Fairfax, 
bluntly.  "  She  wants  to  keep  the  child  as  far 
removed  from  stage  life  and  its  environments 
as  possible.  She  wants  her  to  have  every  ad 
vantage,  every  opportunity  to  grow  up  entirely 
out  of  reach  of  the — er — influences  which  now 
threaten  to  surround  her." 

Harvey  stopped  in  front  of  him.  "  Is  this 
what  you  came  out  here  for,  Mr.  Fairfax?  Did 
Nellie  tell  you  to  do  this?  " 

"  I  will  be  perfectly  frank  with  you.  She 
asked  me  to  come  out  and  talk  it  over  with 
you. ' ' 


MR.  FAIRFAX  83 

11  Why  didn't  she  come  herself?  " 

"  She  evidently  was  afraid  that  you  would 
overrule  her  in  the  matter. ' ' 

'  *  I  never  overruled  her  in  my .  life, ' '  cried 
Harvey.  "  She  isn't  afraid  of  me.  There's 
something  else." 

"  I  can  only  say,  sir,  that  she  intends  to  put 
the  child  in  the  convent  before  Christmas.  She 
goes  on  the  road  after  the  holidays,"  said  Fair 
fax,  setting  his  huge  jaw. 

Harvey  sat  down  suddenly,  limp  as  a  rag. 
His  mouth  filled  with  water — a  cold,  sickening 
moisture  that  rendered  him  speechless  for  a 
moment.  He  swallowed  painfully.  His  eyes 
swept  the  little  room  as  if  in  search  of  some 
thing  to  prove  that  this  was  the  place  for 
Phoebe — this  quiet,  happy  little  cottage  of 
theirs. 

"  Before  Christmas!  "  he  murmured. 

"  See  here,  Mr. — ah — Mr.,  here  is  the  situa 
tion  in  a  nutshell : — Nellie  doesn  't  see  why  she 
should  be  keeping  up  two  establishments.  It's 
expensive.  The  child  will  be  comfortable  and 
happy  in  the  convent  and  this  house  will  be  off 
her  hands.  She " 

"  Why  don't  she  give  up  her  flat  in  town?  " 


84  WHAT'S-HIS-NAME 

demanded  Harvey,  miserably.  "  That's  where 
the  money  goes." 

"  She  expects  to  give  it  up  the  first  of  the 
year,"  said  Fairfax.  "  The  road  tour  lasts  till 
May.  She  is  going  to  Europe  for  the  sum 
mer.  ' ' 

"  To  Europe?  "  gasped  Harvey,  feeling  the 
floor  sink  under  his  feet. 

He  did  not  think  to  inquire  what  was  to  be 
come  of  him  in  the  new  arrangement. 

"  She  needs  a  sea  voyage,  travel — a  long 
vacation,  in  fact.  It  is  fully  decided.  So,  you 
see,  the  convent  is  the  place  for  Phoebe." 

"  But  where  do  I  come  in?  "  cried  the  un 
happy  father.  "  Does  she  think  for  a  minute 
that  I  will  put  my  child  in  a  convent  so  that 
we  may  be  free  to  go  to  Europe  and  do  things 
like  that?  No,  sir!  Dammit,  I  won't  go  to 
Europe  and  leave  Phoebe  in  a " 

Fairfax  was  getting  tired  of  the  argument. 
Moreover,  he  was  uncomfortable  and  decidedly 
impatient  to  have  it  over  with.  He  cut  in  rather 
harshly  on  the  other's  lamentations. 

"  If  you  think  she's  going  to  take  you  to 
Europe,  you're  very  much  mistaken.  Why, 
man,  have  you  no  pride?  Can't  you  under- 


ME.  FAIEFAX  85  • 

stand  what  a  damned  useless  bit  of  dead  weight 
you  are,  hanging  to  her  neck?  ' 

It  was  out  at  last.  Harvey  sat  there  staring 
at  him,  very  still ;  such  a  pathetic  figure  that  it 
seemed  like  rank  cowardice  to  strike  again.  And 
yet  Fairfax,  now  that  he  had  begun,  was  eager 
to  go  on  striking  this  helpless,  inoffensive  crea 
ture  with  all  the  frenzy  of  the  brutal  victor  who 
stamps  out  the  life  of  his  vanquished  foe. 

11  She  supports  you.  You  haven't  earned  a 
dollar  in  four  years.  I  have  it  from  her,  and 
from  others.  It  is  commonly  understood  that 
you  won't  work,  you  won't  do  a  stroke  toward 
supporting  the  child.  You  are  a  leech,  a  bar 
nacle,  a — a — well,  a  loafer.  If  you  had  a  drop 
of  real  man's  blood  in  you,  you'd  get  out  and 
earn  enough  to  buy  clothes  for  yourself,  at  least, 
and  the  money  for  a  hair  cut  or  a  shoe  shine.  She 
has  been  too  good  to  you,  my  little  man.  You 
can't  blame  her  for  getting  tired  of  it.  The 
great  wonder  is  that  she  has  stood  for  it  so 
long. ' ' 

Words  struggled  from  Harvey's  pallid  lips. 

11  But  she  loves  me,"  he  said.  "  It's  all  un 
derstood  between  us.  I  gave  her  the  start  in 
life.  She  will  tell  you  so.  I " 


86  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

* '  You  never  did  a  thing  for  her  in  your  life, '  * 
broke  in  the  big  man,  harshly.  He  was  con 
sumed  by  an  ungovernable  hatred  for  this  lit 
tle  man  who  was  the  husband  of  the  woman  he 
coveted. 

"  I've  always  wanted  to  get  a  job.  She 
wouldn't  let  me,"  protested  Harvey,  a  red  spot 
coming  into  each  of  his  cheeks.  "  I  don't  want 
to  take  the  money  she  earns.  I  never  have 
wanted  to.  But  she  says  my  place  is  here  at 
home,  with  Phoebe.  Somebody's  got  to  look 
after  the  child.  We've  talked  it  over  a " 


<  < 


I  don't  want  to  hear  about  it,"  snapped 
Fairfax,  hitting  the  arm  of  his  chair  with  his 
fist.  "  You're  no  good,  that's  all  there  is  to 
it.  You  are  a  joke,  a  laughing  stock.  Do  you 
suppose  that  she  can  possibly  love  a  man  like 
you?  A  woman  wants  a  man  about  her,  not 
the  caricature  of  one." 

"  I  intend  to  get  a  job  as  soon  as "  began 

Harvey,  as  if  he  had  not  heard  a  word  his  vis 
itor  was  saying. 

"  Now,  see  here,"  exclaimed  Fairfax,  com 
ing  to  his  feet.  "  I'm  a  man  of  few  words.  I 
came  out  here  to  make  you  a  proposition.  It  is 
between  you  and  me,  and  no  one  need  be  the 


ME.  FAIRFAX  87 

wiser.  I'm  not  such  a  fool  as  to  intrust  a  thing 
of  this  kind  to  an  outsider.  Is  there  any  like 
lihood  of  any  one  hearing  us?  " 

Nellie's  husband  shrank  lower  into  his  chair 
and  shook  his  head.  He  seemed  to  have  lost 
the  power  of  speech.  Fairfax  drew  a  chair  up 
closer,  however,  and  lowered  his  voice. 

11  You've  got  a  price.  Men  of  your  type  al 
ways  have.  I  told  Nellie  I  would  see  you  to 
day.  I'll  be  plain  with  you.  She's  tired  of 
you,  of  this  miserable  attachment.  You  are  im 
possible.  That's  settled.  We  won't  go  into 
that.  Now  I'm  here,  man  to  man,  to  find  out 
how  much  you  will  take  and  agree  to  a  sepa 
ration." 

Harvey  stiffened.  He  thought  for  a  moment 
that  his  heart  had  stopped  beating. 

"  I  don't  believe  I  understand,"  he  muttered. 

"  Don't  you  understand  the  word  '  separa 
tion '?" 

"  Agree  to  a  separation  from  what?  Great 
God,  you  don't  mean  a  separation  from 
Phoebe?  " 

"  Don't  be  a  fool !  Use  your  brain,  if  you've 
got  one." 

"  Do — you — mean — Nellie?  "     fell     slowly, 


88  ;WHAT'S-HIS-NAME 

painfully  from  the  dry  lips  of  the  little  man 
in  the  Morris  chair. 

11  Certainly." 

"  Does  she  want  to — to  leave  me?  "  The 
tears  started  in  his  big  blue  eyes.  He  blinked 
violently. 

"  It  has  come  to  that.  She  can't  go  on  as 
she  has  been  going.  It's  ridiculous.  You  are 
anxious  to  go  back  to  Blakeville,  she  says. 
Well,  that's  where  you  belong.  Somebody's 
drug  store  out  there  you'd  like  to  own,  I  be 
lieve.  Now,  I  am  prepared  to  see  that  you  get 
that  drug  store  and  a  matter  of  ten  or  twenty 
thousand  dollars  besides.  Money  means  noth 
ing  to  me.  All  you  have  to  do  is  to  make  no 
answer  to  the  charges  she  will  bring " 

Harvey  leaped  to  his  feet  with  a  cry  of  ab 
ject  pain. 

11  Did  she  send  you  here  to  say  this  to  me?  " 
he  cried,  shrilly,  his  figure  shaking  with  sup 
pressed  fury. 

"  No,"  said  Fairfax,  involuntarily  drawing 
back.  "  This  is  between  you  and  me.  She 
doesn't  know " 

11  Then,  damn  you!  "  shrieked  Harvey,  shak 
ing  his  fist  in  the  big  man's  face,  "  what  do  you 


ME.  FAIEFAX  89 

mean  by  coming  here  like  this?  What  do  you 
think  I  am!  Get  out  of  here!  I'm  a  joke,  am 
If  Well,  I'll  show  you  and  her  and  everybody 
else  that  I'm  a  hell  of  a  joke,  let  me  tell  you 
that!  I  was  good  enough  for  her  once.  I  won 
her  away  from  every  fellow  in  Blakeville.  I 
can  do  it  again.  I'll  show  you,  you  big  bluffer! 
Now,  get  out !  Don't  you  ever  come  here  again, 
and — don't  you  ever  go  near  my  wife  again!  " 

Fairfax  had  arisen.  He  was  smiling,  despite 
his  astonishment. 

"  I  fancy  you  will  find  you  can't  go  so  far 
as  that,"  he  sneered. 

<rGet  out,  or  I'll  throw  you  out!  " 

' '  Better  think  it  over.  Twenty-five  thousand 
and  no  questions  asked.  Take  a  day  or  two 
to  think " 

With  a  shriek  of  rage  Harvey  threw  himself 
at  the  big  man,  striking  out  with  all  his  might. 
Taken  by  surprise,  Fairfax  fell  away  before 
the  attack,  which,  though  seemingly  impotent, 
was  as  fierce  as  that  of  a  wildcat. 

The  New  Yorker  was  in  no  danger.  He 
warded  off  the  blows  with  ease,  all  the  time  im 
ploring  the  infuriated  Harvey  to  be  sensible,  to 
be  calm.  But  with  a  heroism  born  of  shame 


90  WHAT'S-HIS-NAME 

and  despair  the  little  man  swung  his  arms  like 
windmills,  clawing,  scratching,  until  the  air 
seemed  full  of  them.  Fairfax's  huge  head  was 
out  of  reach.  In  his  blind  fury  Harvey  did  not 
take  that  into  account.  He  struck  at  it  with 
all  the  power  in  his  thin  little  arms,  always 
falling  so  far  short  that  the  efforts  were 
ludicrous. 

Fairfax  began  to  look  about  in  alarm.  The 
noise  of  the  conflict  was  sure  to  attract  the  at 
tention  of  the  servants.  He  began  backing  to 
ward  the  doorway.  Suddenly  Harvey  changed 
his  fruitless  tactics.  He  drove  the  toe  of  his 
shoe  squarely  against  the  shinbone  of  the  big 
man.  With  a  roar  of  rage  Fairfax  hurled  him 
self  upon  the  panting  foe. 

"  I'll  smash  your  head,  you  little  devil,"  he 
roared,  and  struck  out  viciously  with  one  of  his 
huge  fists. 

The  blow  landed  squarely  on  Harvey's  eye. 
He  fell  in  a  heap  several  feet  away.  Half- 
dazed,  he  tried  to  get  to  his  feet.  The  big  man, 
all  the  brute  in  him  aroused,  sprang  forward 
and  drove  another  savage  blow  into  the  bleak, 
white  face  of  the.  little  one.  Again  he  struck. 
[Then  he  lifted  Harvey  bodily  from  the  floor  and 


MB.  FAIRFAX  91 

held  him  up  against  the  wall,  his  big  hand  on 
his  throat. 

"  How  do  you  like  it!  "  he  snarled,  slapping 
the  helpless,  half -conscious  man  in  the  face  with 
his  open  hand — loud,  stinging  blows  that  al 
most  knocked  the  head  off  the  shoulders.  ' '  Will 
you  agree  to  my  proposition  now?  " 

From  Harvey's  broken  lips  oozed  a  stran 
gled— 

"  No!  " 

Fairfax  struck  again  and  then  let  him  slide 
to  the  floor. 

"  You  damned  little  coward!"  he  grated. 
"  To  Mck  a  man  like  that!  " 

He  rushed  from  the  room,  grabbed  his  hat 
and  coat  in  the  hall,  and  was  out  of  the  house 
like  a  whirlwind. 

The  whir  of  a  motor  came  vaguely,  indis 
tinctly  to  Harvey's  ears.  He  was  lying  close 
to  the  window.  As  if  in  a  dream  he  lifted  him 
self  feebly  to  his  knees  and  looked  out  of  the 
window,  not  knowing  exactly  what  he  did  nor 
why  he  did  it. 

A  big  green  car  was  leaving  his  front  gate. 
He  was  a  long  time  in  recalling  who  came  up 
in  it. 


92  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

His  breath  was  coming  slowly.  He  tried  to 
speak,  but  a  strange,  unnatural  wheeze  came 
from  his  lips.  A  fit  of  coughing  followed.  At 
last  he  got  upon  his  feet,  steadying  himself 
against  the  window  casing.  For  a  long  time 
he  stood  there,  working  it  all  out  in  his  dizzy, 
thumping  brain. 

He  put  his  hand  to  his  lips  and  then  stared 
dully  at  the  stains  that  covered  it  when  he  took 
it  away.  Then  it  all  came  back  to  him  with 
a  rush.  Like  a  guilty,  hunted  thing  he  slunk 
upstairs  to  his  room,  carefully  avoiding  the 
room  in  which  Phoebe  was  being  bedecked  in 
her  Sunday  frock.  Her  high,  shrill  voice  came 
to  his  ears.  He  was  weeping  bitterly,  sobbing 
like  a  whipped  child. 

He  almost  fainted  when  he  first  peered  into 
the  mirror  on  his  bureau.  His  eyes  were  be 
ginning  to  puff  out  like  great  knobs,  his  face 
and  shirt  front  were  saturated  with  his  own 
plucky  blood.  Plucky!  The  word  occurred  to 
him  as  he  looked.  Yes,  he  had  been  plucky.  He 
didn't  know  it  was  in  him  to  be  so  plucky.  A 
sort  of  pride  in  himself  arose  to  offset  the  pain 
and  mortification.  Yes,  he  had  defended  his 
honour  and  Nellie's.  She  should  hear  of  it! 


ME.  FAIEFAX  93 

He  would  tell  her  what  he  had  done  and  how 
Fairfax  had  struck  him  down  with  a  chair. 
She  would  then  deny  to  him  that  she  had  said 
those  awful  things  about  him.  She  would  be 
proud  of  him ! 

Carefully  he  washed  his  hands  and  face. 
With  trembling  fingers  he  applied  court-plaster 
to  his  lips,  acting  with  speed  because  his  eyes 
were  closing.  Some  one  had  told  him  that  raw 
beefsteak  was  good  for  black  eyes.  He  won 
dered  if  bacon  would  do  as  well.  There  was  no 
Beefsteak  in  the  house. 

His  legs  faltered  as  he  made  his  way  to  the 
back  stairs.  Bridget  was  coming  up.  She 
started  back  with  a  howl. 

' '  Come  here,  Bridget, ' '  he  whispered.  ' '  Into 
my  room.  Be  quick!"  He  retreated.  He  would 
employ  her  aid  and  swear  her  to  secrecy.  The 
Irish  know  a  great  deal  about  fighting,  he 
reflected. 

"  In  the  name  av  Hiwin,  sor,  what  has  hap 
pened  to  yez?  "  whispered  Bridget,  aghast  in 
the  doorway. 

"  Come  in  and  I'll  tell  you,"  said  he,  with  a 
groan. 

Presently  a  childish  voice  came  clamouring 


94  WHAT'S-HIS-NAME 

at  the  locked  door.  He  heard  it  as  from  afar. 
Bridget  paused  in  her  ministrations.  He  had 
just  said: — 

11 1  will  take  boxing  lessons  and  physical  cul 
ture  of  your  brother,  Bridget.  You  think  he 
can  build  me  up?  I  know  I'm  a  bit  run  down. 
No  exercise,  you  know.  Still,  I  believe  I  would 
have  thrashed  him  to  a  frazzle  if  I  hadn't  stum 
bled.  That  was  when  he  kicked  me  here.  I  got 
this  falling  against  the  table." 

"  Yis,  sor,"  said  Bridget,  dutifully. 

In  response  to  the  pounding  on  the  door,  he 
called  out,  bravely: — 

"  You  can't  come  in  now,  Phoebe.  Papa  has 
hurt  himself  a  little  bit.  I'll  come  out  soon." 

"  I  got  my  Sunday  dress  on,  daddy,"  cried 
the  childish  voice.  "  And  I'm  all  spruced  up. 
Has  the  nice  gentleman  gone  awayt  " 

His  head  sank  into  his  hands. 

"  Yes,  dearie,  he's  gone,"  he  replied,  in 
muffled  tones. 


CHAPTER  IV 

LUNCHEON 

FOB  several  days,  he  moped  about  the  house, 
not  even  venturing  upon  the  porch,  his  face  a 
sight  to  behold.  His  spirits  were  lower  than 
they  had  been  in  all  his  life.  The  unmerciful 
beating  he  had  sustained  at  the  hands  of  Fair 
fax  was  not  the  sole  cause  of  his  depression. 
As  the  consequences  of  that  pummelling  sub 
sided,  the  conditions  which  led  up  to  it  forced 
themselves  upon  him  with  such  horrifying  im 
mensity  that  he  fairly  staggered  under  them. 

It  slowly  dawned  on  him  that  there  was  some 
thing  very  sinister  in  Fairfax's  visit,  some 
thing  terrible.  Nellie's  protracted  stay  in 
town,  her  strange  neglect  of  Phoebe,  to  say 
nothing  of  himself,  the  presence  of  Fairfax  in 
her  dressing-room  that  night,  and  a  great  many 
circumstances  which  came  plainly  to  mind,  now 
that  he  considered  them  worth  while  noticing, 
all  went  a  long  way  toward  justifying  Fairfax 
in  coming  to  him  with  the  base  proposition  that 
had  resulted  so  seriously  to  his  countenance. 

95 


96  WHAT'S-HIS-NAME 

Nellie  was  tired  of  him !  He  did  not  belong 
to  her  world.  That  was  the  sum  and  substance 
of  it.  As  he  dropped  out  of  her  world,  some 
one  else  quite  naturally  rose  to  fill  the  void. 
That  person  was  Fairfax.  The  big  man  had 
said  that  she  wanted  a  separation,  she  wanted 
to  provide  a  safe  haven  for  Phoebe.  The  in 
ference  was  plain.  She  wanted  to  get  rid  of 
him  in  order  to  marry  Fairfax.  Fairfax  had 
been  honest  enough  to  confess  that  he  was  act 
ing  on  his  own  initiative  in  proposing  the  bribe, 
but  there  must  have  been  something  behind 
it  all. 

He  had  spoken  of  "  charges."  What  charge 
could  Nellie  bring  against  him?  He  was  two 
days  in  arriving  at  the  only  one — failure  to 
provide.  Yes,  that  was  it.  "  Failure  to  pro 
vide."  How  he  hated  the  words.  How  he  de 
spised  men  who  did  not  provide  for  their  wives. 
He  had  never  thought  of  himself  in  that  light 
before.  But  it  was  true,  all  true.  And  Nellie 
was  slipping  away  from  him  as  the  result.  Not 
only  Nellie  but  Phoebe.  She  would  be  taken 
from  him. 

"  I  don't  drink,"  he  argued  with  himself, 
"  and  I've  never  treated  her  cruelly.  Other 


LUNCHEON  97 

women  don 't  interest  me.  I  never  swear  at  her. 
I've  never  beaten  her.  I've  always  loved  her. 
So  it  must  be  that  I'm  'no  good,'  just  as  that 
scoundrel  says.  '  No  good!  '  Why,  she  knows 
better  than  that.  There  never  was  a  fellow  who 
worked  harder  than  I  did  for  Mr.  Davis.  I 
drew  trade  to  his  store.  Anybody  in  Blakeville 
will  swear  to  that.  Haven't  I  tried  my  best  to 
get  a  job  in  the  same  shows  with  her?  Wasn't 
I  the  best  comedian  they  had  in  the  dramatic 
club?  I've  never  had  the  chance  to  show  what 
I  could  do,  and  Nellie  knows  it.  But  I'll  show 
them  all!  I'll  make  that  big  brute  wish  he'd 
never  been  born.  I'll — I'll  assert  myself.  He 
shan't  take  her  away  from  me." 

His  resolutions  soared  to  great  heights,  only 
to  succumb  to  chilly  blasts  that  sent  them  shriv 
elled  back  to  the  lowest  depths.  What  could  he 
do  against  a  man  who  had  all  the  money  that 
Fairfax  possessed?  What  could  he  offer  for 
Nellie,  now  that  some  one  else  had  put  a  stu 
pendous  price  on  her?  He  remembered  read 
ing  about  an  oil  painting  that  originally  sold 
for  five  hundred  francs  and  afterward  brought 
forty  thousand  dollars.  Somehow  he  likened 
Nellie  to  a  picture,  with  the  reservation  that  he 


98  WHAT'S-HIS-NAME 

didn't  believe  any  painting  on  earth  was  worth 
forty  thousand  dollars.  If  there  was  such  a 
thing,  he  had  never  seen  it. 

Then  he  began  to  think  of  poor  Nellie  cast 
helpless  among  the  tempters.  She  was  like  a 
child  among  voracious  beasts  of  prey.  No  won 
der  she  felt  hard  toward  him !  He  was  to  blame, 
terribly  to  blame.  In  the  highest,  most  exalted 
state  of  remorse  he  wept,  not  once  but  often. 
His  poor  little  Nellie! 

In  one  of  these  strange  ever-growing  flights 
of  combined  self-reproach  and  self-exaltation 
he  so  vividly  imagined  himself  as  a  rescuer, 
as  an  able-bodied  defender  against  all  the  ills 
and  evils  that  beset  her,  that  the  fancy  took  the 
shape  of  positive  determination.  He  made  up 
his  mind  to  take  her  off  the  stage,  back  to 
Blakeville,  and  to  an  environment  so  sweet  and 
pure  that  her  life  would  be  one  long  season 
of  joy  and  happiness. 

With  the  growth  of  this  resolution  he  began 
to  plan  his  own  personal  rehabilitation.  First 
of  all,  he  would  let  his  face  recover  its  natural 
shape;  then  he  would  cultivate  muscle  and 
brawn  at  the  emporium  of  Professor  Flaherty  j 
moreover,  he  would  devote  considerable  atten- 


LUNCHEON  99 

tlon  to  his  own  personal  appearance  and  to  the 
habits  of  the  "  men  about  town."  He  would 
fight  the  tempters  with  their  own  weapons — 
the  cockscrew,  the  lobster  pick,  the  knife  and 
fork,  and  the  nut-splitter! 

He  did  not  emerge  from  the  house  for  five 
days.  By  that  time  he  was  fairly  presentable. 

It  was  Annie's  day  out,  so  he  took  Phoebe 
for  a  little  walk.  As  for  Phoebe,  she  never 
passed  a  certain  door  upstairs  without  kicking 
at  it  with  first  one,  then  the  other  of  her  tiny 
feet,  in  revenge  for  the  way  it  had  hurt  her 
father  by  remaining  open  so  that  he  could  bump 
into  it  on  that  bloody,  terrifying  day.  She 
sent  little  darts  of  exquisite  pain  through  him 
by  constantly  alluding  to  the  real  devastator  as 
"  that  nice  Mr.  Fairy-fax."  It  was  her  pleas 
ure  to  regard  him  as  a  great  big  fairy  who  had 
promised  her  in  secret  that  she  would  some 
day  be  like  Cinderella  and  have  all  the 
riches  the  slipper  showered  upon  that  poor 
little  lady. 

As  they  were  returning  home  after  a  stroll 
through  a  rather  remote  street,  they  came  upon 
Mr.  Butler,  who  was  down  on  his  knees  fixing 
something  or  other  about  his  automobile.  Har- 


100  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

vey  thought  it  a  good  opportunity  to  start  his 

crusade  against  New  York  City. 

'  '  Hello,  '  '  he  said,  halting.    Butler  looked  up. 

He  was  mad  as  a  wet  hen  to  begin  with. 
"  Hello,"  he  snarled,  resuming  his  work. 
"  I've  been  thinking  about  that  little  -  " 
"  Get  out  of  the  light,  will  you?  " 
Harvey  moved  over,  dragging  Phoebe  after 


"  That  little  scheme  of  ours  to  dine  together 
in  town  some  night.  You  remember  we  talked 
about  it  -  " 

"  No,  I  don't,"  snapped  Butler. 

"  We  might  lunch  together  early  next  week. 
I  know  a  nice  little  place  on  Seventh  Avenue 
where  you  get  fine  spaghetti.  We  -  " 

"I'm  booked  for  a  whole  month  of  lunch 
eons,"  said  Butler,  sitting  back  on  his  heels  to 
stare  at  this  impossible  person.  "  Can't  join 
you." 

"  Some  other  time,  then,"  said  Harvey,  wav 
ing  his  hand  genially.  "  Your  wife  home  yet?  " 

Butler  got  upon  his  feet. 

"  Say,"  said  he,  aggressively,  "  do  you  know 
she's  heard  about  that  idiotic  trip  of  mine  to 
town  that  night!  Fairfax  told  everybody,  and 


LUNCHEON  101 

somebody's  wife  told  Mrs.  Butler.  It  got  me 
in  a  devil  of  a  mess." 

11  You  don't  say  so!  " 

"  Yes,  I  do  say  so.  Next  time  you  catch 
me — But,  what's  the  use?  "  He  turned  to  his 
work  with  an  expressive  shrug  of  his  shoulders. 

"  I'll  have  my  wife  explain  everything  to 
Mrs.  Butler  the  first  time  she  comes  out,"  said 
Harvey,  more  bravely  than  he  felt.  He  could 
not  help  wondering  when  Nellie  would  come  out. 

"  It  isn't  necessary,"  Butler  made  haste  to 
assure  him. 

Harvey  was  silent  for  a  moment. 

"  Fixing  your  automobile?  "  he  asked,  un 
willing  to  give  it  up  without  another  effort. 

"  What  do  you  suppose  I'm  doing?  " 

"  It's  wonderful  how  fast  one  of  these  little 
one-seated  cars  can  go,"  mused  Harvey. 
"  Cheap,  too;  ain't  they?  " 

Butler  faced  him  again,  malice  in  his  glance. 

"  It's  not  in  it  with  that  big  green  car  your 
wife  uses,"  he  said,  distinctly. 

"  Big  green "  began  Harvey,  blankly. 

Then  he  understood.  He  swallowed  hard, 
straightened  Phoebe 's  hat  with  infinite  care  and 
gentleness,  and  looking  over  Butler's  head, 


102  WHAT  'S-HIS-N  AME 

managed  to  say,  quite  calmly : — '  *  It  used  to  be 
blue.  We've  had  it  painted.  Come  along, 
Phoebe,  Mr.  Butler's  busy.  We  mustn't  bother 
him.  So  long,  Butler." 

"  So  long,"  said  Mr.  Butler,  suddenly  in 
tent  upon  finding  something  in  the  tool-box. 

The  pair  moved  on.  Out  of  the  corner  of 
his  eye  Butler  watched  them  turn  the  corner 
below. 

"  Poor  little  guy!  "  he  said  to  the  monkey 
wrench. 

The  big  green  car!  All  the  way  home  that 
juggernaut  green  car  ran  through,  over,  and 
around  him.  He  could  see  nothing  else,  think 
of  nothing  else.  A  big  green  car! 

That  evening  he  got  from  Bridget  the  ad 
dress  of  her  brother,  Professor  Flaherty,  the 
physical  trainer  and  body  builder. 

In  the  morning  he  examined  himself  in  the 
mirror,  a  fever  of  restlessness  and  impatience 
afflicting  him  with  the  desire  to  be  once  more 
presentable  to  the  world.  He  had  been  encour 
aged  by  the  fact  that  Butler  had  offered  no 
comment  on  the  black  rims  around  his  eyes. 
They  must  be  disappearing. 

With  his  chin  in  his  hands  he  sat  across  the 


LUNCHEON  103 

room  staring  at  his  reflection  in  the  glass,  a 
gloomy,  desolate  figure. 

"  It  wouldn't  be  wise  to  apply  for  a  job  un 
til  these  eyes  are  all  right  again,"  he  was  say 
ing  to  himself,  bitterly.  ' '  Nobody  would  hire 
a  man  with  a  pair  of  black  eyes  and  a  busted 
lip — especially  a  druggist.  I'll  simply  have  to 
wait  a  few  days  longer.  Heigh-ho!  To-mor 
row's  Sunday  again.  I — I  wonder  if  Nellie 
will  be  out  to  see  us." 

But  Nellie  did  not  come  out.  She  journeyed 
far  and  fast  in  a  big  green  car,  but  it  was  in 
another  direction. 

Thursday  of  the  next  week  witnessed  the 
sallying  forth  of  Harvey  What's-His-Name, 
moved  to  energy  by  a  long  dormant  and  mourn 
fully  acquired  ambition.  The  delay  had  been 
irksome. 

Nellie's  check  for  the  month's  expenses  had 
arrived  in  the  mail  that  morning.  He  folded 
it  carefully  and  put  it  away  in  his  pocketbook, 
firmly  resolved  not  to  present  it  at  the  bank. 
He  intended  to  return  it  to  her  with  the  an 
nouncement  that  he  had  secured  a  position  and 
hereafter  would  do  the  providing. 

Spick  and  span  in  his  best  checked  suit,  his 


104  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

hat  tilted  airily  over  one  ear,  he  stepped  briskly 
down  the  street.  You  wouldn't  have  known 
him,  I  am  sure,  with  his  walking-stick  in  one 
hand,  his  light  spring  overcoat  over  the  other 
arm.  A  freshly  cleaned  pair  of  grey  gloves, 
smelling  of  gasoline,  covered  his  hands.  On 
the  lapel  of  his  coat  loomed  a  splendid  yellow 
chrysanthemum.  Eegular  football  weather,  he 
had  said. 

The  first  drug  store  he  came  to  he  entered 
with  an  air  of  confidence.  No,  the  proprietor 
said,  he  didn't  need  an  assistant.  He  went  on 
to  the  next.  The  same  polite  answer,  with  the 
additional  information,  in  response  to  a  sug 
gestion  by  the  applicant,  that  the  soda-water 
season  was  over.  Undaunted,  he  stopped  in 
at  the  restaurant  in  the  block  below.  The  pro 
prietor  of  the  place  looked  so  sullen  and  for 
bidding  that  Harvey  lost  his  courage  and  in 
stead  of  asking  outright  for  a  position  as  man 
ager  he  asked  for  a  cup  of  coffee  and  a  couple 
of  fried  eggs.  As  the  result  of  this  extra  and 
quite  superfluous  breakfast  he  applied  for  the 
job. 

The  man  looked  him  over  scornfully. 

"I'm  the  manager  and  the  whole  works  com- 


LUNCHEON  105 

bined,"  he  said.  "  I  need  a  dish-washer,  come 
to  think  of  it.  Four  a  week  and  board.  You 
can  go  to  work  to-day  if " 

But  Harvey  stalked  out,  swinging  his  cane 
manfully. 

11  Well,  God  knows  I've  tried  hard  enough," 
he  said  to  himself,  resignedly,  as  he  headed  for 
the  railway  station.  It  was  still  six  minutes  of 
train  time.  "  I'll  write  to  Mr.  Davis  out  in 
Blakeville  this  evening.  He  told  (me  that  my 
place  would  always  be  open  to  me." 

It  was  nearly  one  o'clock  when  he  appeared 
at  Nellie's  apartment.  Kachel  admitted  him. 
He  hung  his  hat  and  coat  on  the  rack,  deposited 
his  cane  in  the  corner,  and  sauntered  coolly 
into  the  little  sitting-room,  the  maid  looking 
on  in  no  little  wonder  and  uneasiness. 

"  Where's  my  wife?  "  he  asked,  taking  up 
the  morning  paper  from  the  centre  table  and 
preparing  to  make  himself  at  home  in  the  big 
armchair. 

"  She's  out  to  lunch,  sir." 

He  laid  the  paper  down. 

"  Where?  " 

Eachel  mentioned  a  prominent  downtown 
cafe  affected  by  the  profession. 


106  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

"  Will  yon  have  lunch  here,  sir?  "  she  in 
quired. 

"  No,"  said  he,  determinedly.  "  Thank  you 
just  the  same.  I'm  lunching  downtown.  I — I 
thought  perhaps  she'd  like  to  join  me." 

Eachel  rang  for  the  elevator  and  he  de 
parted,  amiably  doffing  his  hat  to  her  as  he 
dropped  to  the  floor  below. 

At  one  of  the  popular  corner  tables  in  the 
big  cafe  a  party  of  men  and  women  were  seated, 
seven  or  eight  in  all.  Nellie  Duluth  had  her 
back  toward  the  other  tables  in  the  room.  It 
was  a  bit  of  modesty  that  she  always  affected. 
She  did  not  like  being  stared  at.  Besides, 
she  could  hold  her  audience  to  the  very  end, 
so  to  speak,  for  all  in  the  place  knew  she 
was  there  and  were  willing  to  wait  until  she 
condescended  to  face  them  in  the  process  of 
departure. 

It  was  a  very  gay  party,  comprising  a  grand- 
opera  soprano  and  a  tenor  of  world-wide  repu 
tation,  as  well  as  three  or  four  very  well-known 
New  Yorkers.  Manifestly,  it  was  Fairfax's 
luncheon.  The  crowd  at  this  table  was  ob 
served  by  all  the  neck-craners  in  the  place. 
Every  one  was  telling  every  one  else  what 


LUNCHEON  107 

every  one  knew: — "  That's  Nellie  Duluth  over 
there. ' ' 

As  the  place  began  to  clear  out  and  tables 
were  being  abandoned  here  and  there,  a  small 
man  in  a  checked  suit  appeared  in  the  doorway. 
An  attendant  took  his  hat  and  coat  away  from 
him  while  he  was  gazing  with  kaleidoscopic 
instability  of  vision  upon  the  gay  scene  before 
him.  He  had  left  his  walking-stick  in  a  street 
car,  a  circumstance  which  delayed  him  a  long 
time,  for,  on  missing  it,  he  waited  at  a  corner 
in  the  hope  of  recognising  the  motorman  on 
his  return  trip  up  Madison  Avenue. 

The  head-waiter  was  bowing  before  him  and 
murmuring,  ' '  How  many,  sir  ?  " 

* '  How  many  what  ?  ' '  mumbled  Harvey,  with 
a  start. 

"  In  your  party?  "  asked  the  man,  not  half 
so  politely  and  with  a  degree  of  distance  in  his 
attitude.  It  did  not  look  profitable. 

"  Oh!  Only  one,  sir.  Just  a  sandwich  and 
a  cup  of  coffee,  I  think." 

There  was  a  little  table  away  over  in  the 
corner  sandwiched  between  the  doors  of  en 
trance  and  egress  for  laden  waiters  and  'bus 
boys.  Toward  this  a  hastily  summoned  second 


108  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

or  third  assistant  conducted  the  newcomer. 
Twice  during  the  process  of  traversing  this  il 
limitable  space  Harvey  bumped  against  chairs 
occupied  by  merry  persons  who  suddenly  be 
came  crabbed  and  asked  him  who  the  devil  he 
was  stumbling  over. 

A  blonde,  flushed  woman  who  sat  opposite 
Nellie  at  the  table  in  the  corner  caught  sight  of 
him  as  he  passed.  She  stared  hard  for  a  mo 
ment  and  then  allowed  a  queer  expression  to 
come  into  her  eyes. 

"  For  Heaven's  sake!  "  she  exclaimed,  with 
considerable  force. 

"  What's  the  matter?  Your  husband?  "  de 
manded  Nellie  Duluth,  with  a  laugh. 

"  No,"  she  said,  staring  harder.  "  Why,  I 
can't  be  mistaken.  Yes,  as  I  live,  it's  Mr. — 
Mr.  What's-His-Name,  your  husband,  Nellie." 

"  Don't  turn  'round,  Nellie,"  whispered 
Fairfax,  who  sat  beside  her. 

"  I  don't  believe  it!  "  cried  Nellie,  readily. 
"  It  isn't  possible  for  Harvey  to  be  here. 
Where  is  he?  "  she  demanded  in  the  same 
breath,  looking  over  her  shoulder. 

Harvey  was  getting  out  of  the  way  of  a  'bus 
boy  and  a  stack  of  chinaware  and  in  the  way 


LUNCHEON  109 

of  a  waiter  with  a  tray  of  peach  Melbas  when 
she  espied  him. 

"  For  the  land's  sake!  "  she  gasped,  going 
clear  back  to  Blakeville  for  the  expression.  * '  I 
don't  dare  look,  Carrie.  Tell  me,  has  he  got 
a — a  fairy  with  him?  Break  it  gently." 

"  Fairy?  "  sneered  Fairfax,  suddenly  un 
comfortable.  "  Why,  he's  lost  in  the  wood. 
He's  alone  on  a  desert  isle.  What  the  deuce  is 
he  doing  here?  " 

Harvey  gave  his  order  to  the  disdainful 
waiter  and  then  settled  back  in  his  chair  for 
the  first  deliberate  look  around  the  room  in 
quest  of  his  wife. 

Their  eyes  met.  She  had  turned  halfway 
round  in  her  chair  and  was  looking  at  him  with 
wide-open,  unbelieving  eyes.  He  felt  himself 
suddenly  tied  hand  and  foot  to  the  chair.  Now 
that  he  had  found  her  he  could  do  no  more  than 
stare  at  her  in  utter  bewilderment.  He  had 
come  tilting  at  windmills. 

The  flush  deepened  in  her  cheek  as  she 
turned  her  attention  to  the  dessert  that  had  just 
been  set  down  before  her.  She  was  very  quiet, 
in  marked  contrast  to  her  mood  of  the  moment 
before. 


110  WHAT'S-HIS-NAME 

Fairfax  made  a  remark  which  set  the  others 
to  laughing.  She  did  not  smile,  but  toyed  nerv 
ously  with  the  dessert  fork.  Under  cover  of 
the  laughter  he  leaned  over  and  whispered,  an 
anxious,  troubled  note  in  his  voice: — 

"  I'll  call  the  head  waiter  and  have  him  put 
out  before  he  does  anything  crazy." 

"  Put  out?  "  she  repeated.  "  Why,  what  do 
you  think  he'd  try  to  do?  " 

' l  He 's  got  an  ugly  look  in  his  eye.  I  tell  you, 
he'll  create  a  scene.  That's  what  he's  here  for. 
You  remember  what  happened " 

She  laughed  shrilly.  "  He  won't  shoot  any 
one,"  she  said  in  his  ear.  "  Harvey  create  a 
scene!  Oh,  that's  rich!  " 

"  He  hasn't  forgotten  the  thrashing  I  gave 
him.  He  has  been  brooding  over  it,  Nellie." 
Fairfax  was  livid  about  the  eyes. 

"  Well,  I  respect  him  for  trying  to  thrash 
you,  even  though  he  got  the  worst  of  it. ' '  She 
looked  again  in  Harvey's  direction.  He  was 
still  staring  steadily  at  her.  "  He's  all  alone 
over  there  and  he's  miserable.  I  can't  stand 
it.  I'm  going  over  to  sit  with  him." 

As  she  arose  Fairfax  reached  out  and  grasped 
her  arm. 


LUNCHEON  111 

11  Don't  be  a  fool,"  he  said,  in  dismay. 

"  I  won't,"  she  replied,  sweetly.  "  Trust 
me.  So  long,  people.  I'm  going  over  to  have 
coffee  with  my  husband." 

If  the  occupants  of  the  big  cafe  were  sur 
prised  to  see  Nellie  Duluth  make  her  way  over 
to  the  table  and  sit  down  with  the  queer  little 
person  in  checks,  not  so  Harvey.  He  arose  to 
greet  her  and  would  have  kissed  her  if  she  had 
not  restrained  him.  He  was  gratified,  over 
joyed,  but  not  surprised. 

'  *  Hello !  ' '  she  said,  sharply,  to  cover  the  in 
ward  disquiet  that  possessed  her.  She  was 
looking  intently  into  his  eyes  as  if  searching 
for  something  she  dreaded. 

' '  Hello !  ' '  was  his  response.  He  was  still  a 
trifle  dazed. 

She  sat  down  opposite  him.  Before  she  could 
think  of  anything  further  to  say  the  head 
waiter  rushed  up  to  inquire  if  Miss  Duluth  and 
her  friend  wouldn't  prefer  a  table  at  one  of  the 
windows. 

"  No,  this  will  do,"  she  said,  thankful  for  the 
interruption. 

"  We  are  doing  very  nicely,"  said  Harvey, 
rather  pompously,  adding  in  a  loud  voice  of 


112  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

authority: — "  Tell  that  fellow  to  hustle  my 
luncheon  along,  will  you?  "  Then,  turning  to 
Nellie,  he  said: — "  You  don't  look  as  though 
you'd  ever  been  sick  a  day  in  your  life,  Nellie." 

She  laughed  uncomfortably.  * '  How  are  you, 
Harvey?  And  Phoebe?  " 

"  Fine.  Never  better.  Why  don't  you  come 
out  and  see  us  occasionally?  " 

"  May  I  order  a  cup  of  black  coffee?  "  she 
asked,  ignoring  the  question.  She  was  sorely 
puzzled. 

"  Have  a  big  one,"  he  urged,  signalling  a 
waiter. 

Her  curiosity  conquered.  "  What  in 
Heaven's  name  brought  you  here,  Harvey?  " 

He  told  her  of  the  word  Rachel  had  given 
hun.  Nellie  made  a  mental  note  of  the  inten 
tion  to  speak  plainly  to  Rachel. 

"  Who  are  your  friends?  "  he  asked.  Just 
then  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  Fairfax's  face.  He 
turned  very  cold. 

"  Mr.  Fairfax  is  giving  a  luncheon  for  two 
of  the  grand-opera  people,"  she  explained. 

He  forced  his  courage.  "  I  don't  want  you 
to  have  anything  more  to  do  with  that  man," 
he  said.  "  He's  a  scoundrel." 


LUNCHEON  113 

"  Now,  don't  be  silly/'  she  cried.  "  What 
train  are  you  going  out  on?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  Maybe  I'll  stay  in.  I'll  go 
up  to  your  flat,  I  guess,  for  a  couple  of  days. 
Phoebe's  all  right.  She's  over  the  diphtheria 
now " 

"  Diphtheria?  "  gasped  Nellie,  wide-eyed, 
overlooking  his  other  declaration,  which,  by  the 
way,  was  of  small  moment. 

"  Almost  died,  poor  kiddie." 

She  flared  up  in  an  instant.  "  Why  wasn't 
I  told?  What  were  you  thinking  of,  you  little 
fool!  " 

' '  If  you  had  taken  the  trouble  to  come  out  to 
Tarrytown,  you  could  have  found  out  for  your 
self,"  he  retorted,  coolly.  "  Now,  see  here, 
Nellie,  I've  come  in  to  see  you  and  to  have  a 
very  plain  talk  with  you.  So  just  hold  your 
horses.  Don't  fly  off  the  handle.  I  am  the 
head  of  this  family  and  I'm  going  to  boss  it 
from  this  time  on." 

"  You "  she  began,  in  a  furious  little 

shriek,  her  eyes  blazing.  She  caught  herself  up 
in  time.  Two  or  three  people  nearby  looked  up 
at  the  sound  of  her  raised  voice.  She  lowered 
it  to  a  shrill,  intense  half -whisper.  "  What  do 


114  WHAT'S-HIS-NAME 

you  mean  by  coming  here  in  this  way  ?  Every 
body  is  laughing  at  me.  You  make  me  ridicu 
lous.  I  won't  stand  for  it;  do  you  hear?  " 

He  was  colder  if  possible  than  before,  but  he 
was  resolute. 

"  We've  got  to  have  an  understanding,  the 
sooner  the  better,"  he  said,  quietly. 

11  Yes,  you're  right,"  she  repeated;  "  the 
sooner  the  better." 

"  We  can't  talk  here,"  he  said,  suddenly  con 
scious  that  the  eyes  of  many  were  upon  them. 
"  Go  over  and  ask  that  infernal  sneak  to  ex 
cuse  you,  and  we  '11  go  up  to  the  flat. ' ' 

11  I'm  going  motoring  this  aft " 

"  You  do  as  I  tell  you !  "  said  he,  in  a  strange 
voice. 

"  Why,  Harvey "  she  stammered,  catch 
ing  her  breath. 

"  When  you've  had  your  coffee,"  he  added. 

She  sipped  her  coffee  in  silence,  in  wonder, 
in  bitter  resentment.  He  munched  the  club 
sandwich  and  sucked  the  coffee  through  his 
thin  moustache  with  a  vehemence  that  grated 
on  her  nerves  terribly. 

"  I've  had  all  I  want,"  she  said,  suddenly 
putting  the  little  cup  down  with  a  crash. 


LUNCHEON  115 

"  Then  go  over  and  tell  'em  you've  got  to  go 
home." 

She  crossed  the  room,  red-faced  and  angry. 
He  watched  her  as  she  made  an  announcement 
to  the  party,  saw  them  laugh  uproariously,  and 
smiled  in  triumph  over  the  evidence  of  annoy 
ance  on  the  part  of  Fairfax.  Nellie  was  whis 
pering  something  close  to  the  big  man's  ear, 
and  he  was  shaking  his  head  vigorously.  Then 
she  waved  her  hand  to  the  party  and  started 
away.  Fairfax  arose  to  follow  her.  As  he  did 
so,  Harvey  came  to  his  feet  and  advanced.  The 
big  man  stopped  short,  with  a  look  of  actual 
alarm  in  his  eyes,  and  went  back  to  his  seat, 
hastily  motioning  to  the  head  waiter. 

Five  minutes  later  Miss  Duluth  emerged  from 
the  cafe,  followed  by  the  little  man  in  the 
checked  suit. 

An  attendant  blew  his  whistle  and  called  out 
down  the  line  of  waiting  motors: — 

"  Mr.  Fairfax's  car  up!  " 

"  Get  me  a  taxi,"  ordered  Nellie,  hastily. 

The  man  betrayed  his  surprise.  She  was 
obliged  to  repeat  the  order. 

"  What  does  a  taxi  to — to  our  place  cost?  " 
demanded  Harvey,  feeling  in  his  pocket. 


116  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

"  Never  mind,"  she  snapped,  "  I'll  pay  for 
it." 

"  No,  you  won't,"  he  asserted.  "  I  raised 
seventeen  dollars  yesterday  on  the  watch 
mother  gave  me.  It's  my  own  money,  Nellie, 
remember  that." 

Rachel  was  plainly  amazed  when  the  couple 
walked  into  the  apartment.  The  two  at  once 
resumed  the  conversation  they  had  carried  on 
so  vigorously  in  the  taxicab  on  the  way  up 
from  downtown.  Nellie  did  not  remove  her 
hat,  sharply  commanding  Rachel  to  leave  the 
room. 

"  No,"  she  said,  "  she  simply  has  to  go  to 
the  convent.  She'll  be  safe  there,  no  matter 
how  things  turn  out  for  you  and  me,  Harve. 
I  insist  on  that. ' ' 

"  Things  are  going  to  turn  out  all  right  for 
us,  Nellie,"  he  protested,  a  plaintive  note  in 
his  voice.  It  was  easily  to  be  seen  which  had 
been  the  dominating  force  in  the  ride  home. 

"  Now,  you've  got  to  be  reasonable,  Harve," 
she  said,  firmly.  "  We  can't  go  on  as  we  have 
been  going.  Something's  just  got  to  happen." 

"  Well,  doggone  it,  haven't  I  said  that  I'll 
agree  to  your  trip  to  Europe?  I  won't  put  a 


LUNCHEON  117 

stop  to  that.  I  see  your  point  clearly.  The 
managers  think  it  wise  for  you  to  do  a  bit  of 
studying  abroad.  I  can  see  that.  I'm  not  go 
ing  to  be  mean.  Three  months'  hard  work 
over  there  will  get  you  into  grand  opera  sure. 
But  that  has  nothing  to  do  with  Phoebe.  She 
can  go  to  Blakeville  with  me,  and  then  when 
you  come  back  next  fall  I'll  have  a  job  here  in 
New  York  and  we'll " 

"  Don't  talk  foolishness, "  she  blurted  out. 
"  You've  said  that  three  or  four  times.  First 
you  wanted  me  to  go  back  to  Blakeville  to  live. 
You  insisted  on  it.  What  do  you  think  I  am? 
Why,  I  wouldn't  go  back  to  Blakeville  if  Heaven 
was  suddenly  discovered  to  be  located  there  in 
stead  of  up  in  the  sky.  That's  settled.  No 
Blakeville  for  me.  Or  Phoebe  either.  Do  you 
suppose  I'm  going  to  have  that  child  grow  up 
like — like  " — she  changed  the  word  and  con 
tinued — ' '  like  a  yap  I  ' ' 

' '  All  I  ask  is  that  you  will  give  me  a  chance 
to  show  what  I  can  do, ' '  he  said,  earnestly. 

"  You  can  do  that  just  as  well  with  Phoebe 
in  the  convent,  as  I've  said  before." 

"  She's  as  much  my  child  as  she  is  yours," 
he  proclaimed,  stoutly. 


118  WHAT'S-HIS-NAME 

"  Then  yon  ought  to  be  willing  to  do  the 
sensible  thing  by  her." 

"  Why,  good  Lord,  Nell,  she's  only  five,"  he 
groaned.  "  She'll  die  of  homesickness." 

"  Nonsense!  She'll  forget  both  of  us  in  a 
month  and  be  happy." 

"  She  won't  forget  me!  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  Well,  I've  said  my  say,"  she  announced, 
pacing  the  floor.  "  Suppose  we  agree  to  dis 
agree.  Well,  isn't  it  better  to  have  her  out  of 
the  mess?  ' 

' '  I  won 't  give  her  up,  derned  if  I  do !  " 

'  *  Say,  don 't  you  know  if  it  comes  to  a  ques 
tion  of  law,  the  Court  will  give  her  to  met  ' 

"I'm  not  trying  to  take  her  away  from  you." 

"  You're  trying  to  ruin  my  career." 

"  Fairfax  has  put  all  this  into  your  head, 
Nellie,  dear.  He's  a  low-down  rascal." 

"  He's  my  friend,  and  a  good  one,  too.  I 
don't  believe  he  offered  you  that  money  to 
agree  to  a  separation." 

"  Darn  it  all,  you  can  still  see  the  scar  on 
my  lip.  That  ought  to  prove  something.  If 
I  hadn't  stumbled,  I'd  have  knocked  him  silly. 
As  it  was,  he  kicked  me  in  the  face  when  I  was 
down." 


LUNCHEON  119 

"  He  told  me  you  assaulted  him  without 
cause. ' ' 

11  He  lied." 

"  Well,  that's  neither  here  nor  there.  I'm 
sorry  you  were  beaten  up  so  badly.  It  wasn't 
right,  I'll  admit.  He  said  you  were  plucky, 
Harve.  I  couldn't  believe  him  at  first." 

His  face  brightened. 

"  You  give  me  a  chance  and  I'll  show  you 
how  plucky  I  am!  "  he  cried.  "  Come  on  now, 
Nellie,  let's  make  a  fresh  start." 

She  was  silent  for  a  long  time.  At  heart  she 
was  fair  and  honest.  She  had  lost  her  love 
and  respect  for  the  little  man,  but,  after  all, 
was  that  altogether  his  fault?  She  was  sorry 
for  him. 

11  Well,  I'll  think  it  over,"  she  said,  at  last. 

"  I'll  write  to  Mr.  Davis  to-night!  "  he  cried, 
encouraged. 

"  All  right.  I  hope  he'll  give  you  a  job," 
said  she,  also  brightening,  but  for  an  entirely 
different  reason. 

"  You'll  give  up  this  awful  thing  of — of  sepa 
rating;  won't  you?  " 

"  I'll  promise  one  thing,  Harvey,"  said  she, 
suddenly  sincere.  "  I  won't  do  anything  until 


120  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

I  come  back  from  the  road.  That's  fair,  isn't 
it?  And  I'll  tell  you  what  else  I'll  do.  I  will 
let  Phoebe  stay  with  you  in  Tarrytown  until 
the  end  of  the  tour — in  May." 

"  But  I'm  going  to  Blakeville,"  he  protested. 

"  No,"  said  she,  firmly,  "  I  won't  agree  to 
that.  Either  you  stay  in  Tarrytown  or  she  goes 
to  the  convent." 

"  I  can't  get  work  in  Tarrytown." 

"  You  can  tell  Mr.  Davis  you  will  come  out 
to  Blakeville  in  time  for  the  opening  of  the 
soda-water  season.  I'll  do  the  work  for  the 
family  till  then.  That's  all  I'll  consent  to. 
I'll  ask  for  a  legal  separation  if  you  don't  agree 
to  that." 

"  I— I'll  think  it  over,"  he  said,  feebly;  "I'll 
stay  here  with  you  for  a  couple  of  days, 
and " 

"You  will  do  nothing  of  the  sort!"  she 
cried.  "  Do  you  suppose  I'm  going  to  spoil 
my  chances  for  a  separation,  if  I  want  to  ap 
ply,  by  letting  you  live  in  the  same  house  with 
me?  Why,  that  would  be  wasting  the  two 
months  already  gone." 

He  did  not  comprehend,  and  he  was  afraid 
to  ask  for  an  explanation.  The  term  "  failure 


LUNCHEON  121 

to  provide  "  was  the  only  one  he  could  get 
through  his  head;  "  desertion  "  was  out  of  the 
question.  His  brow  was  wet  with  the  sweat  of 
a  losing  conflict.  He  saw  that  he  would  have 
to  accept  her  ultimatum  and  trust  to  luck  to 
provide  a  way  out  of  the  difficulty.  Time  would 
justify  him,  he  was  confident.  In  the  mean 
time,  he  would  ease  his  conscience  by  returning 
the  check,  knowing  full  well  that  it  would  not 
be  accepted.  He  would  then  take  it,  of  course, 
with  reservations.  Every  dollar  was  to  be  paid 
back  when  he  obtained  a  satisfactory  position. 

He  determined,  however,  to  extract  a  prom 
ise  from  her  before  giving  in. 

"  I  will  consent,  Nellie,  on  the  condition  that 
you  stop  seeing  this  fellow  Fairfax  and  riding 
around  in  his  big  green  car.  I  won't  stand  for 
that." 

Nellie  smiled,  more  to  herself  than  to  him. 
She  had  Fairfax  in  the  meshes.  He  was  safe. 
The  man  was  madly  in  love  with  her.  The  in 
stant  she  was  freed  from  Harvey  he  stood  ready 
to  become  her  husband — Fairfax,  with  all  his 
money  and  all  his  power. 

And  that  is  precisely  what  she  was  aiming 
at.  She  could  afford  to  smile,  but  somehow  she 


122  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

was  coming  to  feel  that  this  little  man  who  was 
now  her  husband  had  it  in  him,  after  all,  to 
put  up  a  fierce  and  desperate  fight  for  his  own. 
If  he  were  pushed  to  the  wall  he  would  fight 
back  like  a  wildcat,  and  well  she  knew  that 
there  would  be  disagreeable  features  in  the 
fray. 

"  If  you  are  going  to  talk  like  that  I'll  never 
speak  to  you  again,"  she  said,  banishing  the 
smile.  "  Don't  you  trust  me?  " 

"  Sure,"  he  said,  and  he  meant  it.  "  That's 
not  the  point." 

"  See  here,  Harve,"  she  said,  abruptly  put 
ting  her  hands  on  his  shoulders  and  looking 
squarely  into  his  eyes,  "  I  want  you  to  believe 
me  when  I  say  that  I  am  a — a — well,  a  good 
woman." 

"  I  believe  it,"  he  said,  solemnly.  Then,  as 
an  after-thought,  * '  and  I  want  to  say  the  same 
thing  for  myself." 

"  I've  never  doubted  you,"  said  she,  fer 
vently.  "  Now,  go  home  and  let  things  stand 
as  they  are.  Write  to  Mr.  Davis  to-night." 

"  I  will.    I  say,  won't  you  give  me  a  kiss?  ' 

She  hesitated,  still  calculating. 

"  Yes,  if  you  promise  not  to  tell  anybody," 


LUNCHEON  123 

she  said,  with  mock  solemnity.  As  she  ex 
pected,  he  took  it  seriously. 

"  Do  you  suppose  I  go  'round  telling  people 
I've  kissed  my  wife?  ' 

Then  she  gave  him  a  peck  on  the  cheek  and 
let  it  go  as  a  kiss. 

"  When  will  you  be  out  to  see  us?  " 

"  Soon,  I  hope,"  she  said,  quickly.  "  Now 
go,  Harve,  I'm  going  to  lie  down  and  rest. 
Kiss  Phoebe  for  me." 

He  got  to  the  door.  She  was  fairly  pushing 
him. 

"  I  feel  better,"  he  said,  taking  a  long 
breath. 

"  So  do  I,"  said  she. 

He  paused  for  a  moment  to  frown  in  some 
perplexity. 

"  Say,  Nell,  I  left  my  cane  in  a  street  car 
coming  down.  Do  you  think  it  would  be  worth 
while  to  advertise  for  it?  " 


CHAPTER  V 

CHRISTMAS 

THE  weeks  went  slowly  by  and  Christmas  came 
to  the  little  house  in  Tarrytown.  He  had  be 
come  resigned  but  not  reconciled  to  Nellie's 
continued  and  rather  persistent  absence,  re 
garding  it  as  the  sinister  proclamation  of  her 
intention  to  carry  out  the  plan  for  separation 
in  spite  of  all  that  he  could  do  to  avert  the  ca 
tastrophe.  His  devotion  to  Phoebe  was  more 
intense  than  ever;  it  had  reached  the  stage 
of  being  pathetic. 

True  to  his  word,  he  wrote  to  Mr.  Davis,  who 
in  time  responded,  saying  that  he  could  give 
him  a  place  at  the  soda  fountain  in  May,  but 
that  the  wages  would  of  necessity  be  quite 
small,  owing  to  the  fact  that  the  Greeks  had 
invaded  Blakeville  with  the  corner  fruit  stands 
and  soft-drink  fountains.  He  could  promise 
him  eight  dollars  a  week,  or  ten  dollars  if  he 
would  undertake  to  come  to  the  store  at  six 
A.M.  and  sweep  up,  a  task  now  performed  by 

124 


CHRISTMAS  125 

the  proprietor  himself,  who  found  himself  ap 
proaching  an  age  and  a  state  of  health  that 
craved  a  feast  of  luxury  and  ease  hitherto 
untasted. 

Harvey  was  in  considerable  doubt  as  to  his 
ability  to  live  on  ten  dollars  a  week  and  sup 
port  Phoebe,  as  well  as  to  begin  the  task  of 
reimbursing  Nellie  for  her  years  of  sacrifice. 
Still,  it  was  better  than  nothing  at  all,  so  he 
accepted  Mr.  Davis '  ten-dollar-a-week  offer  and 
sat  back  to  wait  for  the  coming  of  the  first  of 
May. 

In  the  meantime  he  would  give  Nellie  some 
return  for  her  money  by  doing  the  work  now 
performed  by  Annie — or,  more  advisedly 
speaking,  a  portion  of  it.  He  would  conduct 
Phoebe  to  the  kindergarten  and  call  for  her  at 
the  close  of  sessions,  besides  dressing  her  in 
the  morning,  sewing  on  buttons  for  her,  un 
dressing  her  at  night,  and  all  such  jobs  as  that, 
with  the  result  that  Annie  came  down  a  dollar 
a  week  in  her  wages  and  took  an  extra  after 
noon  out.  In  this  way  he  figured  he  could  save 
Nellie  at  least  thirty  dollars.  He  also  did  the 
janitor's  work  about  the  place  and  looked  after 
the  furnace,  creating  a  salvage  of  three  dollars 


126  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

and  a  half  a  month.  Moreover,  instead  of  buy 
ing  a  new  winter  suit  and  replacing  his  shabby 
ulster  with  one  more  comely  and  presentable, 
he  decided  to  wear  his  fall  suit  until  January 
and  then  change  off  to  his  old  blue  serge  spring 
suit,  which  still  seemed  far  from  shiny,  so  far  as 
he  could  see. 

And  so  it  was  that  Nellie 's  monthly  check  for 
$150  did  very  nicely. 

Any  morning  at  half-past  eight,  except  Sun 
day,  you  could  have  seen  him  going  down  the 
street  with  Phoebe  at  his  side,  her  hand  in  his, 
bound  for  the  kindergarten.  He  carried  her 
little  lunch  basket  and  whistled  merrily  when 
not  engaged  in  telling  her  about  Santa  Glaus. 
She  startled  him  one  day  by  asking : — 

* '  Are  you  going  to  be  Santy  this  year,  daddy, 
or  is  mamma?  ' 

He  looked  down  at  the  rich  little  fur  coat 
and  muff  Nellie  had  outfitted  her  with,  at  the 
expensive  hat  and  the  silk  muffler,  and  sighed. 

"  If  you  ask  questions,  Santy  won't  come  at 
all,"  he  said,  darkly.  "  He's  a  mighty  cranky 
old  chap,  Santy  is." 

He  did  not  take  up  physical  culture  with  Pro 
fessor  Flaherty,  partly  on  account  of  the  ex- 


CHEISTMAS  127 

pense,  partly  because  he  found  that  belabour 
ing  cannel  coal  and  shaking  down  the  furnace 
was  more  developing  than  he  had  expected. 
Eaking  the  autumn  leaves  out  of  the  front  yard 
also  was  harder  than  he  had  any  idea  it  would 
be. !  He  was  rather  glad  it  was  not  the  season 
for  the  lawn  mower. 

Down  in  his  heart  he  hoped  that  Nellie  would 
come  out  for  Christmas,  but  he  knew  there  was 
no  chance  of  it.  She  would  have  two  perform 
ances  on  that  day.  He  refrained  from  telling 
Phoebe  until  the  very  last  minute  that  her 
mother  would  not  be  out  for  the  holiday.  He 
hadn't  the  heart  to  do  it. 

He  broke  the  news  then  by  telling  the  child 
that  her  mother  was  snowbound  and  couldn't 
get  there.  An  opportune  fall  of  snow  the 
day  before  Christmas  gave  him  the  inspira 
tion. 

He  set  up  the  little  Christmas  tree  in  the 
back  parlour,  assisted  by  Bridget  and  Annie, 
after  Phoebe  had  gone  to  bed  on  Christmas 
Eve.  She  had  urged  him  to  read  to  her  about 
Tiny  Tim,  but  he  put  her  off  with  the  announce 
ment  that  Santa  was  likely  to  be  around  early 
on  account  of  the  fine  sleighing,  and  if  he  saw 


128  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

that  she  wasn't  asleep  in  bed  he  might  skip  the 
house  entirely. 

The  expressman,  in  delivering  several  boxes 
from  town  that  afternoon,  had  said  to  his 
helper : — 

' '  That  little  fellow  that  came  to  the  door  was 

Nellie  Duluth's  husband,  Mr. — Mr. Say, 

look  on  the  last  page  there  and  see  what  his 
name  is.  He's  a  cheap  skate.  A  dime!  Wot 
do  you  think  of  that?  '  He  held  up  the  dime 
Harvey  had  given  him  and  squinted  at  it  as 
if  it  were  almost  too  small  to  be  seen  with  the 
naked  eye. 

Nellie  sent  "  loads  "  of  presents  to  Phoebe — 
toys,  books,  candies,  fruits,  pretty  dresses,  a 
velvet  coat,  a  tiny  pair  of  opera  glasses,  strings 
of  beads,  bracelets,  rings — dozens  of  things  cal 
culated  to  set  a  child  mad  with  delight.  There 
were  pocketbooks,  handkerchiefs,  squirrel  stoles 
and  muffs  for  each  of  the  servants,  a  box  of 
cigars  for  the  postman,  another  for  the  milk 
man,  and  a  five-dollar  bill  for  the  janitor. 

There  was  nothing  for  Harvey. 

He  looked  for  a  long  time  at  the  envelope 
containing  the  five-dollar  bill,  an  odd  little  smile 
creeping  into  his  eyes.  He  was  the  janitor,  he 


CHRISTMAS  129 

remembered.  After  a  moment  of  indecision  he 
slipped  the  bill  into  another  envelope,  which  he 
marked  "  Charity  "  and  laid  aside  until  morn 
ing  brought  the  mendicant  who,  with  bare 
fingers  and  frosted  lips,  always  came  to 
play  his  mournful  clarionet  in  front  of  the 
house. 

Surreptitiously  he  searched  the  two  big  boxes 
carefully,  inwardly  hoping  that  she  had  not 
forgotten — nay,  ignored — him.  But  there  was 
nothing  there,  not  even  a  Christmas  card!  It 
was  the  first  Christmas  she  had  .  .  . 

The  postman  brought  a  small  box  addressed 
to  Phoebe.  The  handwriting  was  strange,  but 
he  thought  nothing  of  it.  He  thought  it  was 
nice  of  Butler  to  remember  his  little  one  and 
lamented  the  fact  that  he  had  not  bought  some 
thing  for  the  little  Butlers,  of  whom  there  were 
seven.  He  tied  a  red  ribbon  around  the  sealed 
package  and  hung  it  on  the  tree. 

After  it  was  all  over  he  went  upstairs  and 
tried  to  read  "  Dombey  &  Son."  But  a  mist 
came  over  his  blue  eyes  and  his  vision  carried 
him  far  beyond  the  printed  page.  He  was  not 
thinking  of  Nellie,  but  of  his  old  mother,  who 
had  never  forgotten  to  send  him  a  Christmas 


130  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

present.  Ah,  if  she  were  alive  he  would  not  be 
wondering  to-night  why  Santa  Glaus  had 
passed  him  by. 

He  rubbed  his  eyes  with  his  knuckles,  closed 
"  Dombey  &  Son  "  for  the  night,  and  went  to 
bed,  turning  his  thoughts  to  the  row  of  tiny 
stockings  that  hung  from  the  mantelpiece 
downstairs — for  Phoebe  had  put  to  use  all  that 
she  could  find — and  then  let  them  drift  on 
through  space  to  an  apartment  near  Central 
Park,  where  Kris  Kringle  had  delivered  during 
the  day  a  little  packet  containing  the  brooch 
he  had  purchased  for  his  wife  out  of  the  money 
he  had  preserved  from  the  sale  of  his  watch 
some  weeks  before. 

He  was  glad  he  had  sent  Nellie  a  present. 

Bright  and  early  the  next  morning  he  was  up 
to  have  a  final  look  at  the  tree  before  Phoebe 
came  down.  A  blizzard  was  blowing  furiously ; 
the  windows  were  frosted ;  the  house  was  cheer 
less.  He  built  the  fires  in  the  grates  and  sat 
about  with  his  shoulders  hunched  up  till  the 
merry  crackle  of  the  coals  put  warmth  into  his 
veins.  The  furnace !  He  thought  of  it  in  time, 
and  hurried  to  the  basement  to  replenish  the 
fires.  They  were  out.  He  had  forgotten  them 


CHRISTMAS  131 

the  night  before.  Bridget  found  him  there 
later  on,  trying  to  start  the  kindling  in  the 
two  furnaces. 

"  I  clean  forgot  'em  last  night,"  he  said, 
sheepishly. 

"  I  don't  wonder,  sor,"  said  Bridget,  quite 
genially  for  a  cold  morning.  '  *  Do  you  be  after 
going  upstairs  this  minute,  sor.  I'll  have  them 
roaring  in  two  shakes  av  a  lamb 's  tail.  Mebby 
there's  good  news  for  yez  up  there.  Annie's 
at  the  front  door  this  minute,  taking  a  telegram 
from  the  messenger  bye,  sor.  Merry  Christ 
mas  to  ye,  sor." 

"  Merry  Christmas,  Bridget!  "  cried  he, 
gaily.  His  heart  had  leaped  at  the  news  she 
brought.  A  telegram  from  Nellie!  Hurrah! 
He  rushed  upstairs  without  brushing  the  coal 
dust  from  his  hands. 

The  boy  was  waiting  for  his  tip.  Harvey 
gave  him  a  quarter  and  wished  him  a  merry 
Christmas. 

"  A  miserable  day  to  be  out,"  said  he,  unde 
cided  whether  to  ask  the  half -frozen  lad  to  stay 
and  have  a  bite  of  breakfast  or  to  let  him  go 
out  into  the  weather. 

"  It's  nothin'  when  you  gets  used  to  it,"  said 


132  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

the  blue-capped  philosopher,  and  took  his 
departure. 

"  But  it's  the  getting  used  to  it,"  said  Har 
vey  to  Annie  as  she  handed  him  the  message. 
He  tore  open  the  envelope.  She  saw  the  light 
die  out  of  his  eyes. 

The  message  was  from  Eipton,  the  manager, 
and  read: — 

"  Please  send  Phoebe  in  with  the  nurse  to  see  the  matinee  to 
day."' 

The  invitation  was  explicit  enough.  He  was 
not  wanted. 

If  he  had  a  secret  inclination  to  ignore  the 
command  altogether,  it  was  frustrated  by  his 
own  short-sightedness.  He  gulped,  and  then 
read  the  despatch  aloud  for  the  benefit  of  the 
maid.  When  it  was  too  late  he  wished  he  had 
not  done  so. 

Annie  beamed.  "  Oh,  sir,  I've  always  wanted 
to  see  Miss  Duluth  act.  I  will  take  good  care 
of  Phoebe." 

He  considered  it  beneath  his  dignity  to  in 
vite  her  into  a  conspiracy  against  the  child,  so 
he  gloomily  announced  that  he  would  go  in  with 
them  on  the  one-o'clock  train  and  stay  to  bring 
them  out. 


CHEISTMAS  133 

The  Christmas  tree  was  a  great  success. 
Phoebe  was  in  raptures.  He  quite  forgot  his 
own  disappointment  in  watching  her  joyous 
antics.  As  the  distributor  of  the  presents  that 
hung  on  the  gaily  trimmed  and  dazzling  cedar, 
he  came  at  last  to  the  little  package  from  But 
ler.  It  contained  a  beautiful  gold  chain,  at  the 
end  of  which  hung  suspended  a  small  diamond- 
studded  slipper— blue  enamel,  fairly  covered 
with  rose  diamonds. 

Phoebe  screamed  with  delight.  Her  father's 
face  was  a  study. 

<  <  Why,  they  are  diamonds !  "  he  murmured. 
"  Surely  Butler  wouldn't  be  giving  presents 
like  this."  A  card  fluttered  to  the  floor.  He 
picked  it  up  and  read : — * '  A  slipper  for  my  lit 
tle  Cinderella.  Keep  it  and  it  will  bring  good 
luck." 

There  was  no  name,  but  he  knew  who  had 
sent  it.  With  a  cry  of  rage  he  snatched  the 
dainty  trinket  from  her  hand  and  threw  it 
on  the  floor,  raising  his  foot  to  stamp  it 
out  of  shape  with  his  heel.  His  first  vicious 
attempt  missed  the  slipper  altogether,  and 
before  he  could  repeat  it  the  child  was  on  the 
floor  clutching  it  in  her  fingers,  whimpering 


134  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

strangely.      The    servants    looked   on   in    as 
tonishment. 

He  drew  back,  mumbling  something  under 
his  breath.  In  a  moment  he  regained  control 
of  himself. 

"  It — it  isn't  meant  for  you,  darling,"  he 
said,  hoarsely.  "  Santy  left  it  here  by  mis 
take.  We  will  send  it  back  to  him.  It  belongs 
to  some  other  poor  little  girl." 
.  ' '  But  I  am  Cinderella !  ' '  she  cried.  ' '  Mr. 
Fairy-fax  said  so.  He  told  Santy  to  bring  it 
to  me.  Please,  daddy — please!  ' 

He  removed  it  gently  from  her  fingers  and 
dropped  it  into  his  pocket.  His  face  was  very 
white. 

"  Santy  isn't  that  kind  of  a  man,"  he  said, 
without  rhyme  or  reason.  "  Now,  don't  cry, 
dearie.  Here's  another  present  from  mamma. 
See!  " 

Later  in  the  morning,  after  she  had  quite 
forgotten  the  slipper,  he  put  it  back  in  the  box, 
wrapped  it  carefully,  and  addressed  the  pack 
age  to  L.  Z.  Fairfax,  in  New  York  City,  with 
out  explanation  or  comment. 

Before  the  morning  was  half  over  he  was 
playing  with  Phoebe  and  her  toys  quite  as 


Phoebe 


CHRISTMAS  135 

childishly  and  gleefully  as  she,  his  heart  in 
the  fun  she  was  having,  his  mind  almost  wholly 
cleared  of  the  bitterness  and  rancour  that  so 
recently  had  filled  it  to  overflowing. 

The  three  of  them  floundered  through  the 
snowdrifts  to  the  station,  laughing  and  shout 
ing  with  a  merriment  that  proved  infectious. 
The  long-obscured  sun  came  out  and  caught  the 
disease,  for  he  smiled  broadly,  and  the  wind 
gave  over  snarling  and  smirked  with  an  amia 
bility  that  must  have  surprised  the  shivering 
horses  standing  desolate  in  front  of  certain 
places  wherein  their  owners  partook  of  Christ 
mas  cheer  that  was  warm. 

Harvey  took  Phoebe  and  the  nurse  to  the 
theatre  in  a  cab.  He  went  up  to  the  box-office 
window  and  asked  for  the  two  tickets.  The 
seller  was  most  agreeable.  He  handed  out  the 
little  envelope  with  the  words: — 

"  A  packed  house  to-day,  Mr. — Mr. — er — • 
ah,  and — sold  out  for  to-night.  Here  you  are, 
with  Miss  Duluth's  compliments — the  best 
seats  in  the  house.  And  here  is  a  note  for — 
er — yes,  for  the  nurse." 

Annie  read  the  note.  It  was  from  Nellie, 
instructing  her  to  bring  Phoebe  to  her  dress- 


136  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

ing-room  after  the  performance,  where  they 
would  have  supper  later  on. 

Harvey  saw  them  pass  in  to  the  warm  theatre 
and  then  slowly  wandered  out  to  the  bleak, 
wind-swept  street.  There  was  nothing  for  him 
to  do;  nowhere  that  he  could  go  to  seek  cheer 
ful  companions.  For  an  hour  or  more  he  wan 
dered  up  and  down  Broadway,  his  shoulders 
hunched  up,  his  mittened  hands  to  his  ears,  wa 
ter  running  from  his  nose  and  eyes,  his  face 
the  colour  of  the  setting  sun.  Half-frozen,  he 
at  last  ventured  into  a  certain  cafe,  a  place 
where  he  had  lunched  no  fewer  than  half-a- 
dozen  times,  and  where  he  thought  his  identity 
might  have  remained  with  the  clerk  at  the  cigar 
stand. 

There  were  men  at  the  tables,  smoking  and 
chatting  hilariously.  At  one  of  them  sat 
three  men,  two  of  whom  were  actors  he 
had  met.  Summoning  his  courage,  he  ap 
proached  them  with  a  well-assumed  air  of 
nonchalance. 

"  Merry  Christmas,"  was  his  greeting.  The 
trio  looked  at  him  with  no  sign  of  recognition. 
"  How  are  you.  Mr.  Brackley?  How  are  you, 
Joe?  " 


CHRISTMAS  137 

The  two  actors  shook  hands  with  him  with 
out  much  enthusiasm,  certainly  without  in 
terest. 

Light  dawned  on  one  of  them.  "  Oh,"  said 
he,  cheerlessly,  "  how  are  you?  I  couldn't 
place  you  at  first."  He  did  not  offer  to  in 
troduce  him  to  the  stranger,  but  proceeded  to 
enlighten  the  other  players.  "  It's — oh,  you 
know — Nellie  Duluth's  husband." 

The  other  fellow  nodded  and  resumed  his 
conversation  with  the  third  man.  At  the 
same  time  the  speaker  leaned  forward  to 
devote  his  attention  to  the  tale  in  hand, 
utterly  ignoring  the  little  man,  who  stood 
with  his  hand  on  the  back  of  the  vacant 
chair. 

Harvey  waited  for  a  few  moments.  "  What 
will  you  have  to  drink?  "  he  asked,  shyly  drop 
ping  into  the  chair.  They  stared  at  him  and 
shook  their  heads. 

"  That  seat's  engaged,"  said  the  one  called 
"  Joe,"  gruffly. 

Harvey  got  up  instantly.  "  Oh,"  he  said,  in 
a  hesitating  manner.  They  went  on  with  their 
conversation  as  if  he  were  not  there.  After 
a  moment  he  moved  away,  his  ears  burning,  his 


138  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

soul  filled  with  mortification  and  shame.  In  a 
sort  of  daze  he  approached  the  cigar  stand  and 
asked  for  a  box  of  cigarettes. 

"  What  kind?  "  demanded  the  clerk,  laying 
down  his  newspaper. 

Harvey  smiled  engagingly.  "  Oh,  the  kind 
I  usually  get!  "  he  said,  feeling  sure  that  the 
fellow  remembered  him  and  the  quality  he 
smoked. 

"  What's  that?  "  snapped  the  clerk,  scowl 
ing. 

The  purchaser  hastily  mentioned  a  certain 
kind  of  cigarette,  paid  for  it  after  the  box  had 
been  tossed  at  him,  and  walked  away.  Fixed 
in  his  determination  to  stay  in  the  place  until 
he  was  well  thawed  out,  he  took  a  seat  at  a 
little  table  near  the  stairway  and  ordered  a 
hot  lemonade. 

He  was  conscious  of  a  certain  amount  of  at 
tention  from  the  tables  adjacent  to  the  trio  he 
had  accosted.  Several  loud  guffaws  came  to 
his  ears  as  he  sipped  the  boiling  drink.  Taking 
an  unusually  copious  swallow,  he  coughed  and 
spluttered  as  the  liquid  scalded  his  tongue  and 
palate.  The  tears  rushed  to  his  eyes.  From 
past  experience  he  knew  that  his  tongue  would 


CHEISTMAS  139 

be  sore  for  at  least  a  week.  He  had  such,  a 
tender  tongue,  Nellie  said. 

For  half  an  hour  he  sat  there  dreaming  and 
brooding.  It  was  much  better  than  tramping 
the  streets.  A  clock  on  the  opposite  wall  pointed 
to  four  o'clock.  The  matinee  would  be  over  at 
a  quarter  to  five.  Presently  he  looked  again. 
It  was  five  minutes  past  four.  Beally  it  wasn't 
so  bad  waiting  after  all;  not  half  so  bad  as 
he  had  thought  it  would  be. 

Some  one  tapped  him  on  the  shoulder.  He 
looked  up  with  a  start.  The  manager  of  the 
place  stood  at  his  elbow. 

"  This  isn't  a  railway  station,  young  feller," 
he  said,  harshly.  "  You'll  have  to  move  on. 
These  tables  are  for  customers." 

1  'But  I've  bought " 

"  Now,  don't  argue  about  it.  You  heard 
what  I  said.  Move  along." 

The  man's  tone  was  peremptory.  Poor 
Harvey  looked  around  as  if  in  search  of  a 
single  benevolent  face,  and  then,  without  a  word 
of  protest,  arose  and  moved  quickly  toward  the 
door.  His  eyes  were  fixed  in  a  glassy  stare  on 
the  dancing,  elusive  doorway.  He  wondered  if 
he  could  reach  it  before  he  sank  through  the 


140  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

floor.  Somehow  he  had  the  horrible  feeling 
that  just  as  he  opened  it  to  go  out  some  one 
would  kick  him  from  behind.  He  could  almost 
feel  the  impact  of  the  boot  and  involuntarily 
accelerated  his  speed  as  he  opened  the  door  to 
pass  into  the  biting  air  of  the  now  darkening 
street. 

"  I  hate  this  damned  town,"  said  he  to  him 
self  over  and  over  again  as  he  flung  himself 
against  the  gale  that  almost  blew  him  off  his 
feet.  When  he  stopped  to  take  his  bearings, 
he  was  far  above  Longacre  Square  and  still  go 
ing  in  the  wrong  direction.  He  was  befuddled. 
A  policeman  told  him  in  hoarse,  muffled  tones 
to  go  back  ten  blocks  or  so  if  he  wanted  to  find 
the  theatre  where  Nellie  Duluth  was  playing. 

A  clock  in  an  apothecary's  shop  urged  him 
to  hurry.  When  he  came  to  the  theatre,  the 
newsboys  were  waiting  for  the  audience  to  ap 
pear.  He  was  surrounded  by  a  mob  of  boys 
and  men  shouting  the  extras. 

"  Is  the  show  out?  "  he  asked  one  of  them. 

"  No,  sir!  "  shouted  the  boy,  eagerly. 
"  Shall  I  call  up  your  automobile,  mister  I  ' 

"  No,  thank  you,"  said  Harvey  through  his 
chattering  teeth.  For  a  moment  he  felt  dis- 


CHRISTMAS  141 

tinctly  proud  and  important.  So  shrewd  a 
judge  of  humanity  as  a  New  York  "  newsy  " 
had  taken  him  to  be  a  man  of  parts.  For 
awhile  he  had  been  distressed  by  the  fear,  al 
most  the  conviction,  that  he  was  regarded  by 
all  New  York  as  a  "  jay." 

Belying  his  suddenly  acquired  air  of  im 
portance,  he  hunched  himself  up  against  the 
side  of  the  building,  partly  sheltered  from  the 
wind,  and  waited  for  the  crowd  to  pour  forth. 
,With  the  appearance  of  the  first  of  those  home- 
goers  he  would  repair  to  the  stage  door,  and, 
once  behind  the  scenes,  was  quite  certain  that 
he  would  receive  an  invitation  from  Nellie  to 
join  the  gay  little  family  supper  party  in  her 
dressing-room. 

When  the  time  came,  however,  he  ap 
proached  the  doorman  with  considerable  trepi 
dation.  He  had  a  presentiment  that  there  would 
be  "  no  admittance."  Sure  enough,  the  griz 
zled  doorman,  poking  his  head  out,  gruffly  in 
formed  htm  that  no  one  was  allowed  "  back  " 
without  an  order  from  the  manager.  Harvey 
explained  who  he  was,  taking  it  for  granted 
that  the  man  did  not  know  him  with  his  coat- 
collar  turned  up. 


142  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

"  I  know  you,  all  right,"  said  the  man,  not 
unkindly.  "I'd  like  to  let  you  in,  but — you 

see "  He  coughed  and  looked  about  rather 

helplessly,  avoiding  the  pleading  look  in  the 
visitor's  eyes. 

"  It's  all  right,"  Nellie's  husband  assured 
him,  but  an  arm  barred  the  way. 

"  I've  got  strict  orders  not  to  admit  you," 
blurted  out  the  doorman,  hating  himself. 

' '  Not  to  admit  me  1  ' '  said  Harvey,  slowly. 

"I'm  sorry,  sir.     Orders  is  orders." 

"  But  my  little  girl  is  there." 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  understand.  The  orders  are  for 
you,  sir,  not  for  the  kid."  Struck  by  the  look 
in  the  little  man's  eyes  he  hastened  to  say, 
11  Maybe  if  you  saw  Mr.  Eipton  out  front  and 
sent  a  note  in  to  Miss  Duluth,  she'd  change  her 
mind  and " 

"  Good  Lord!  "  fell  from  Harvey's  lips  as  he 
abruptly  turned  away  to  look  for  a  spot  where 
he  could  hide  himself  from  every  one. 

Two  hours  later,  from  his  position  at  the 
mouth  of  the  alley,  he  saw  a  man  come  out  of 
the  stage  door  and  blow  a  whistle  thrice.  He 
was  almost  perishing  with  cold;  he  was  sure 
that  his  ears  were  frozen.  A  sharp  snap  at  the 


CHRISTMAS  143 

top  of  each  of  them  and  a  subsequent  warmth 
urged  him  to  press  quantities  of  snow  against 
them,  obeying  the  old  rule  that  like  cures  like. 
From  the  kitchens  of  a  big  restaurant  came  the 
odours  of  cooking  foodstuffs.  He  was  hungry 
on  this  Merry  Christmas  night,  but  he  would 
not  leave  his  post.  He  had  promised  to  wait 
for  Phoebe  and  take  her  out  home  with  him  in 
the  train. 

With  the  three  blasts  of  the  whistle  he  stirred 
his  numb  feet  and  edged  nearer  to  the  stage 
door.  A  big  limousine  came  rumbling  up  the 
alley  from  behind,  almost  running  him  down. 
The  fur-coated  chauffeur  called  him  unspeak 
able  names  as  he  passed  him  with  the 
emergency  brakes  released. 

Before  he  could  reach  the  entrance,  the  door 
flew  open  and  a  small  figure  in  fur  coat  and  a 
well  known  white  hat  was  bundled  into  the  ma 
chine  by  a  burly  stage  hand.  A  moment  later 
Annie  clambered  in,  the  door  was  slammed  and 
the  machine  started  ahead. 

He  shouted  as  he  ran,  but  his  cry  was  not 
heard.  As  the  car  careened  down  the  narrow 
lane,  throwing  snow  in  all  directions,  he 
dropped  into  a  dejected,  beaten  walk.  Slowly 


144  WHAT'S-HIS-NAME 

he  made  his  way  in  the  trail  of  the  big  car — 
it  was  too  dark  for  him  to  detect  the  colour,  but 
he  felt  it  was  green — and  came  at  last  to  the 
mouth  of  the  alley,  desolate,  bewildered,  hurt 
beyond  all  understanding. 

For  an  instant  he  steadied  himself  against 
the  icy  wall  of  a  building,  trying  to  make  up 
his  mind  what  to  do  next.  Suddenly  it  oc 
curred  to  him  that  if  he  ran  hard  and  fast  he 
could  catch  the  train — the  seven-thirty — and  se 
cure  a  bit  of  triumph  in  spite  of  circumstances. 

He  went  racing  up  the  street  toward  Sixth 
Avenue,  dodging  head-lowered  pedestrians  with 
the  skill  of  an  Indian,  and  managed  to  reach 
Forty-second  Street  without  mishap  or  delay. 
Above  the  library  he  was  stopped  by  a  police 
man,  into  whose  arms  he  went  full  tilt,  almost 
bowling  him  over.  The  impact  dazed  him.  He 
saw  many  stars  on  the  officer's  breast.  As  he 
looked  they  dwindled  into  one  bright  and 
shining  planet  and  a  savage  voice  was  bellow 
ing:— 

"  Hold  still  or  I'll  bat  you  over  the  head !  " 

"  I'm — I'm  trying  to  make  the  seven- thirty, " 
he  panted,  wincing  under  the  grip  on  his 
arm. 


CHBISTMAS  145 

"  We'll  see  about  that,"  growled  the  police 
man. 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,  Mr.  Policeman,  I 
haven't  done  anything.  Honest,  I'm  in  a 
hurry.  My  little  girl's  on  that  train.  We  live 
in  Tarrytown.  She'll  cry  her  eyes  out  if 
I " 

11  What  was  you  running  for!  " 

"  For  it,"  said  Harvey,  at  the  end  of  a  deep 
breath. 

"  It's  only  seven-five  now,"  said  the  officer, 
suspiciously. 

"  Well,  it's  the  seven-ten  I  want,  then,"  said 
Harvey,  hastily. 

"  I  guess  I'll  hold  you  here  and  see  if  any 
body  conies  chasin'  up  after  you.  Not  a  word, 
now.  Close  your  trap." 

As  no  one  came  up  to  accuse  the  prisoner  of 
murder,  theft,  or  intoxication,  the  intelligent 
policeman  released  him  at  the  expiration  of 
fifteen  minutes.  A  crowd  had  collected  despite 
the  cold.  Harvey  was  always  to  remember  that 
crowd  of  curious  people ;  he  never  ceased  won 
dering  where  they  came  from  and  why  they 
were  content  to  stand  there  shivering  in  the 
zero  weather  when  there  were  stoves  and  steam 


146  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

radiators  everywhere  to  be  found.  To  add  to 
his  humiliation  at  least  a  dozen  men  and  boys, 
not  satisfied  with  the  free  show  as  far  as  it 
had  gone,  pursued  him  to  the  very  gates  in  the 
concourse. 

' '  Darned  loafers !  ' '  said  Harvey,  hotly,  but 
under  his  breath,  as  he  showed  his  ticket  and  his 
teeth  at  the  same  time.  Then  he  rushed  for 
the  last  coach  and  swung  on  as  it  moved  out. 

Now,  if  I  were  inclined  to  be  facetious  or  un 
truthful  I  might  easily  add  to  his  troubles  by 
saying  that  he  got  the  wrong  train,  or  some 
thing  of  the  sort,  but  it  is  not  my  purpose  to  be 
harder  on  him  than  I  have  to  be. 

It  was  the  right  train,  and,  better  still,  Annie 
and  Phoebe  were  in  the  very  last  seat  of  the 
very  last  coach.  With  a  vast  sigh  he  dropped 
into  a  vacant  seat  ahead  of  them  and  began 
fanning  himself  with  his  hat,  to  the  utter  amaze 
ment  of  onlookers,  who  had  been  disturbed  by 
his  turbulent  entrance. 

The  newspaper  Annie  was  reading  fell  from 
her  hands. 

"  My  goodness,  sir!  Where  did  you  come 
from?  "  she  managed  to  inquire. 

"  I  Ve    been  —  dining  —  at  —  Sherry 's, ' '    he 


CHEISTMAS  147 

wheezed.  ' '  Annie,  will  you  look  and  see  if  my 
ears  are  frozen?  " 

1 '  They  are,  sir.     Good  gracious !  ' ' 

He  realised  that  he  had  been  indiscreet. 

"  I — I  sat  in  a  draught,"  he  hastened  to  ex 
plain.  "  Did  you  have  a  nice  time,  Phoebe?  " 

The  child  was  sleepy.  "  No,"  she  said,  al 
most  sullenly.  His  heart  gave  a  bound. 
"  Mamma  wouldn't  let  me  eat  anything.  She 
said  I'd  get  fat." 

' '  You  had  quite  enough  to1  eat,  Phoebe, ' '  said 
Annie. 

11  I  didn't,"  said  Phoebe. 

"  Never  mind,"  said  her  father,  "  I'll  take 
you  to  Sherry's  some  day." 

"  When,  daddy?  "  she  cried,  wide  awake  at 
once.  ' '  I  like  to  go  to  places  with  you. ' ' 

He  faltered.  "  Some  day  after  mamma  has 
gone  off  on  the  road.  We'll  be  terribly  gay 
while  she's  away,  see  if  we  ain't." 

Annie  picked  up  the  paper  and  handed  it  to 
him. 

"  Miss  Duluth  ain't  going  on  the  road,  sir," 
she  said.  "  It's  in  the  paper." 

He  read  the  amazing  news.  Annie,  suddenly 
voluble,  gave  it  to  him  by  word  of  mouth  while 


148  WHAT'S-HIS-NAME 

he  read.  It  was  all  there,  she  said,  to  prove 
what  she  was  telling  him.  "  Just  as  if  I 
couldn't  read!  "  said  Harvey,  as  he  began  the 
article  all  over  again  after  perusing  the  first 
few  lines  in  a  perfectly  blank  state  of  mind. 

11  Yes,  sir,  the  doctor  says  she  can't  stand  it 
on  the  road.  She's  got  nervous  prosperity  and 
she's  got  to  have  a  long  rest.  That  Miss  Brown 
is  going  to  take  her  place  in  the  play  after  this 
week  and  Miss  Duluth  is  going  away  out  West 

to  live  for  awhile  to  get  strong  again.  She 

What  is  the  name  of  the  town,  Phoebe  I  ' ' 

"  Keno,"  said  Phoebe,  promptly. 

1 1  But  the  name  of  the  town  isn  't  in  the  paper, 
sir,"  Annie  informed  him.  "It's  a  place 
where  people  with  complications  go  to  get  rid 
of  them,  Miss  Nellie  says.  The  show  won't  be 
any  good  without  her,  sir.  I  wouldn't  give  two 
cents  to  see  it." 

He  sagged  down  in  the  seat,  a  cold  perspira 
tion  starting  out  all  over  his  body. 

"  When  does  she  go — out  there?  "  he  asked, 
as  in  a  dream. 

"  First  of  next  week.  She  goes  to  Chicago 
with  the  company  and  then  right  on  out  to — 
to— er— to " 


CHRISTMAS  149 

11  Reno,"  said  he,  lifelessly. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

He  did  not  know  how  long  afterward  it  was 
that  he  heard  Phoebe  saying  to  him,  her  tired 
voice  barely  audible  above  the  clacking  of  the 
wheels : — 

"  I  want  a  drink  of  water,  daddy." 

His  voice  seemed  to  come  back  to  him  from 
some  far-away  place.  He  blinked  his  eyes  sev 
eral  times  and  said,  very  wanly : — 

"  You  mustn't  drink  water,  dearie.  It  will 
make  you  fat." 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  REVOLVER 

HE  waited  until  the  middle  of  the  week  for 
some  sign  from  her;  none  coming,  he  decided 
to  go  once  more  to  her  apartment  before  it  was 
too  late.  The  many  letters  he  wrote  to  her  dur 
ing  the  first  days  after  learning  of  her  change 
of  plans  were  never  sent.  He  destroyed  them. 
A  sense  of  shame,  a  certain  element  of  pride, 
held  them  back.  Still,  he  argued  with  no  little 
degree  of  justice,  there  were  many  things  to  be 
decided  before  she  took  the  long  journey — and 
the  short  step  she  was  so  plainly  contemplating. 

It  was  no  more  than  right  that  he  should 
make  one  last  and  determined  effort  to  save  her 
from  the  fate  she  was  so  blindly  courting.  It 
was  due  her.  She  was  his  wife.  He  had  prom 
ised  to  cherish  and  protect  her.  If  she  would 
not  listen  to  the  appeal,  at  least  he  would  have 
done  his  bounden  duty. 

There  was  an  ever  present,  ugly  fear,  too, 
that  she  meant,  by  some  hook  or  crook,  to  rob 
him  of  Phoebe. 

150 


THE  EEVOLVEE  151 

"  And  she's  as  much  mine  as  hers,"  he  de 
clared  to  himself  a  thousand  times  or  more. 

Behind  everything,  yet  in  plain  view,  lay  his 
own  estimate  of  himself — the  naked  truth — he 
was  "  no  good!  "  He  had  come  to  the  point 
of  believing  it  of  himself.  He  was  not  a  suc 
cess  ;  he  was  quite  the  other  thing.  But,  grant 
ing  that,  he  was  young  and  entitled  to  another 
chance.  He  could  work  into  a  partnership  with 
Mr.  Davis  if  given  the  time. 

Letting  the  midweek  matinee  slip  by,  he  made 
the  plunge  on  a  Thursday.  She  was  to  leave 
New  York  on  Sunday  morning;  that  much  he 
knew  from  the  daily  newspapers,  which  teemed 
with  Nellie's  breakdown  and  its  lamentable  con 
sequences.  It  would  be.  at  least  a  year,  the 
papers  said,  before  she  could  resume  her  career 
on  the  stage.  He  searched  the  columns  daily 
for  his  own  name,  always  expecting  to  see  him 
self  in  type  little  less  conspicuous  than  that  ac 
corded  to  her,  and  stigmatised  as  a  brute,  an 
inebriate,  a  loafer.  It  was  all  the  same  to  him 
— brute,  soak,  or  loafer.  But  even  under  these 
extraordinary  conditions  he  was  as  completely 
blanketed  by  obscurity  as  if  he  never  had  been 
in  existence. 


152  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

Sometimes  he  wondered  whether  she  could 
get  a  divorce  without  according  him  a  name. 
He  had  read  of  fellow  creatures  meeting  death 
"  at  the  hand  of  a  person  (or  of  persons)  un 
known.  ' '  Could  a  divorce  complaint  be  worded 
in  such  non-committal  terms!  Then  there  was 
that  time-honoured  shroud  of  private  identity, 
the  multitudinous  John  Doe.  Could  she  have 
the  heart  to  bring  proceedings  against  him  as 
John  Doe!  He  wondered. 

If  he  were  to  shoot  himself,  so  that  she  might 
have  her  freedom  without  going  to  all  the 
trouble  of  a  divorce  or  the  annoyance  of  a  term 
of  residence  in  Reno,  would  she  put  his  name 
on  a  tombstone!  He  wondered. 

A  strange,  a  most  unusual  thing  happened  to 
him  just  before  he  left  the  house  to  go  to  the 
depot.  He  was  never  quite  able  to  account  for 
the  impulse  which  sent  him  upstairs  rather 
obliquely  to  search  through  a  trunk  for  a  re 
volver,  purchased  a  couple  of  years  before, 
following  the  report  that  housebreakers  were 
abroad  in  Tarrytown,  and  which  he  had 
promptly  locked  away  in  his  trunk  for  fear  that 
Phoebe  might  get  hold  of  it. 

He  rummaged  about  in  the  trunk,  finally  un- 


THE  REVOLVER'  153 

earthing  the  weapon.  He  slipped  it  into  his 
overcoat  pocket  with  a  furtive  glance  over  his 
shoulder.  He  chuckled  as  he  went  down  the 
stairs.  It  was  a  funny  thing  for  him  to  do, 
locking  the  revolver  in  the  trunk  that  way. 
What  burglar  so  obliging  as  to  tarry  while  he 
went  through  all  the  preliminaries  incident  to 
destruction  under  the  circumstances?  Yes,  it 
was  stupid  of  him. 

He  did  not  consider  the  prospect  of  being  ar 
rested  for  carrying  concealed  weapons  until  he 
was  half-way  to  the  city,  and  then  he  broke  into 
a  mild  perspiration.  From  that  moment  he 
eyed  every  man  with  suspicion.  He  had  heard 
of  "  plain  clothes  men."  They  were  the  very 
worst  kind.  "  They  take  you  unawares  so," 
said  he  to  himself,  with  which  he  moved  closer 
to  the  wall  of  the  car,  the  more  effectually  to 
conceal  the  weapon.  It  wouldn't  do  to  be 
caught  going  about  with  a  revolver  in  one's 
pocket.  That  would  be  the  very  worst  thing 
that  could  happen.  It  would  mean  "  the 
Island  ' '  or  some  other  such  place,  for  he  could 
not  have  paid  a  fine. 

It  occurred  to  him,  therefore,  that  it  would 
be  wiser  to  get  down  at  One  Hundred  and  Tenth 


154  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

street  and  walk  over  to  Nellie 's.  The  policemen 
were  not  so  thick  nor  so  bothersome  up  there, 
he  figured,  and  it  was  a  rather  expensive  article 
he  was  carrying ;  one  never  got  them  back  from 
the  police,  even  if  the  fine  were  paid. 

Footsore,  weary,  and  chilled  to  the  bone,  he 
at  length  came  to  the  apartment  building 
wherein  dwelt  Nellie  Duluth.  In  these  last  few 
weeks  he  had  developed  a  habit  of  thinking  of 
her  as  Nellie  Duluth,  a  person  quite  separate 
and  detached  from  himself.  He  had  come  to 
regard  himself  as  so  far  removed  from  Nellie 
Duluth  that  it  was  quite  impossible  for  him  to 
think  of  her  as  Mrs. — Mrs. — he  had  to  rack  his 
brain  for  the  name,  the  connection  was  so 
remote. 

He  had  walked  miles — many  devious  and 
lengthening  miles — before  finally  coming  to  the 
end  of  his  journey.  Once  he  came  near  asking 
a  policeman  to  direct  him  to  Eighty-ninth 
Street,  but  the  sudden  recollection  of  the  thing 
he  carried  stopped  him  in  time.  That  and  the 
discovery  of  a  sign  on  a  post  which  frostily  in 
formed  him  that  he  was  then  in  the  very  street 
he  sought. 

It  should  go  without  the  saying  that  he  hes- 


THE  REVOLVER  155 

itated  a  long  time  before  entering  the  building. 
Perhaps  it  would  be  better  after  all  to  write  to 
her.  Somewhat  sensibly  he  argued  that  a  let 
ter  would  reach  her,  while  it  was  more  than 
likely  he  would  fall  short  of  a  similar  achieve 
ment.  She  couldn't  deny  Uncle  Sam,  but  she 
could  slam  the  door  in  her  husband's  face. 
Yes,  he  concluded,  a  letter  was  the  thing.  Hav 
ing  come  to  this  half-hearted  decision,  he  pro 
ceeded  to  argue  himself  out  of  it.  Suppose  that 
she  received  the  letter,  did  it  follow  that  she 
would  reply  to  it?  He  might  enclose  a  stamp 
and  all  that  sort  of  thing,  but  he  knew  Nellie; 
she  wouldn't  answer  a  letter — at  least,  not  that 
kind  of  letter.  She  would  laugh  at  it,  and  per 
haps  show  it  to  her  friends,  who  also  would  be 
vastly  amused.  He  remembered  some  of  them 
as  he  saw  them  in  the  cafe  that  day ;  they  were 
given  to  uproarious  laughter.  No,  he  con 
cluded,  a  letter  was  not  the  thing.  He  must  see 
her.  He  must  have  it  out  with  her,  face  to  face. 
So  he  went  up  in  the  elevator  to  the  eleventh 
floor,  which  was  the  top  one,  got  out  and  walked 
down  to  the  sixth,  where  she  lived.  Her  name 
was  on  the  door  plate.  He  read  it  three  or  four 
times  before  resolutely  pressing  the  electric 


156  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

button.  Then  he  looked  over  his  shoulder 
quickly,  impelled  by  the  queer  feeling  that  some 
one  was  behind  him,  towering  like  a  dark, 
threatening  shadow.  A  rough  hand  seemed 
ready  to  close  upon  his  shoulder  to  drag  him 
back  and  down.  But  no  one  was  there.  He 
was  alone  in  the  little  hall.  And  yet  something 
was  there.  He  could  feel  it,  though  he  could 
not  see  it;  something  sinister  that  caused  him 
to  shiver.  His  tense  fingers  relaxed  their  grip 
on  the  revolver.  Strangely  the  vague  thing 
that  disturbed  him  departed  in  a  flash  and  he 
felt  himself  alone  once  more.  It  was  very  odd, 
thought  he. 

Eachel  came  to  the  door.  She  started  back 
in  surprise,  aye,  alarm,  when  she  saw  the  little 
man  in  the  big  ulster.  A  look  of  consternation 
sprang  into  her  black  eyes. 

He  opened  his  lips  to  put  the  natural  ques 
tion,  but  paused  with  the  words  unuttered. 
The  sound  of  voices  in  revelry  came  to  his  ears 
from  the  interior  of  the  apartment,  remote  but 
very  insistent.  Men's  voices  and  women's 
voices  raised  in  merriment.  His  gaze  swept 
the  exposed  portion  of  the  hall.  Packing  boxes 
stood  against  the  wall,  piled  high.  The  odour 


THE  REVOLVER  157 

of  camphor  came  out  and  smote  his  sense  of 
smell. 

Rachel  was  speaking.  Her  voice  was  peculi 
arly  hushed  and  the  words  came  quickly,  jerkily 
from  her  lips. 

"  Miss  Duluth  is  engaged,  sir.  I'm  sorry  she 
will  not  be  able  to  see  you." 

He  stared  uncertainly  at  her  and  beyond  her. 

"  So  she's  packing  her  things,"  he  mur 
mured,  more  to  himself  than  to  the  servant. 
Rachel  was  silent.  He  saw  the  door  closing  in 
his  face.  A  curious  sense  of  power,  of  author 
ity,  came  over  him.  "  Hold  on,"  he  said 
sharply,  putting  his  foot  against  the  door. 
"  You  go  and  tell  her  I  want  to  see  her.  It's 
important — very  important!  " 

"  She  has  given  orders,  sir,  not  to  let 
you " 

11  Well,  I'm  giving  a  few  orders  myself,  and 
I  won't  stand  for  any  back  talk,  do  you  hear? 
Who  is  the  master  of  this  place,  tell  me  that?  " 
He  thumped  his  breast  with  his  knuckles. 
"  Step  lively,  now.  Tell  her  I'm  here." 

He  pushed  his  way  past  her  and  walked  into 
what  he  called  the  ' '  parlour, ' '  but  what  was  to 
Nellie  the  "  living-room."  Here  he  found 


158  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

numerous  boxes,  crates,  and  parcels,  all  pre 
pared  for  shipment  or  storage.  Quite  coolly 
he  examined  the  tag  on  a  large  crate.  The 
word  "  Eeno  "  smote  him.  As  he  cringed  he 
smiled  a  sickly  smile  without  being  conscious 
of  the  act.  "  Wait  a  minute,"  he  called  to 
Rachel,  who  was  edging  in  an  affrighted  man 
ner  toward  the  lower  end  of  the  hall  and  the 
dining-room.  "What  is  she  doing?  " 

Eachel's  face  brightened.  He  was  going  to 
be  amenable  to  reason. 

"It's  a  farewell  luncheon,  sir.  She  simply 
can 't  be  disturbed.  I  '11  tell  her  you  were  here. ' ' 

"  You  don't  need  to  tell  her  anything,"  said 
he,  briskly.  The  sight  of  those  crates  and  boxes 
had  made  another  man  of  him.  "  I'll  announce 
myself.  She  won 't ' ' 

"  You'd  better  not!  "  cried  Eachel,  distract 
edly.  "  There  are  some  men  here.  They  will 
throw  you  out  of  the  apartment.  They're  big 
enough,  Mr. — Mr. " 

He  grinned.  His  fingers  took  a  new  grip  on 
the  revolver. 

"  Napoleon  wasn't  as  big  as  I  am,"  he  said, 
much  to  Eachel's  distress.  It  sounded  very 
mad  to  her.  "  Size  isn't  everything." 


THE  REVOLVER  159 

"For  Heaven's  sake,  sir,  please  don't " 

"  They  seem  to  be  having  a  gay  old  time,'* 
said  he,  as  a  particularly  wild  burst  of  laughter 
came  from  the  dining-room.  He  hesitated. 
"  Who  is  out  there?" 

Eachel  was  cunning.  "  I  don't  know  the 
names,  sir.  They're — they're  strangers  to 
me." 

At  that  instant  the  voice  of  Fairfax  came  to 
his  ears,  loudly  proclaiming  a  health  to  the  in 
valid  who  was  going  to  Reno.  Harvey  stood 
there  in  the  hall,  listening  to  the  toast.  He 
heard  it  to  the  end,  and  the  applause  that  fol 
lowed.  If  he  were  to  accept  the  diagnosis  of 
the  speaker,  Nellie  was  repairing  to  Reno  to  be 
cured  of  an  affliction  that  had  its  inception 
seven  years  before,  a  common  malady,  but  not 
fatal  if  taken  in  time.  The  germ,  or,  more 
properly  speaking,  the  parasite,  unlike  most 
bacteria,  possessed  but  two  legs,  and  so  on  and 
so  forth. 

The  laughter  was  just  dying  away  when  Har 
vey — who  recognised  himself  as  the  pestiferous 
germ  alluded  to — strode  into  the  room,  followed 
by  the  white-faced  Rachel. 

"  Who  was  it,  Rachel?  "  called  out  Nellie, 


160  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

from  behind  the  enormous  centrepiece  of  roses 
which  obstructed  her  view  of  the  unwelcome  vis 
itor. 

The  little  man  in  the  ulster  piped  up, 
shrilly : — 

11  She  don't  know  my  name,  but  I  guess  you 
do,  if  you'll  think  real  hard." 

There  were  ten  at  the  table,  flushed  with  wine 
and  the  exertion  of  hilarity.  Twenty  eyes  were 
focussed  on  the  queer,  insignificant  little  man 
in  the  doorway.  If  they  had  not  been  capable 
of  focussing  them  on  anything  a  moment  before, 
they  acquired  the  power  to  do  so  now. 

Nellie,  staring  blankly,  arose.  She  wet  her 
lips  twice  before  speaking. 

1 1  Who  let  you  in  here  ?  ' '  she  cried,  shrilly. 

One  of  the  men  pushed  back  his  chair  and 
came  to  his  feet  a  bit  unsteadily. 

"  What  the  deuce  is  it,  Nellie?  "  he  hic 
coughed. 

Nellie  had  her  wits  about  her.  She  was  very 
pale,  but  she  was  calm.  Instinctively  she  felt 
that  trouble — even  tragedy — was  confronting 
her ;  the  thing  she  had  feared  all  along  without 
admitting  it  even  to  herself. 

"  Sit  down,  Dick,"  she  commanded.    "  Don't 


THE  REVOLVER  161 

get  excited,  any  of  you.  It's  all  right.  My 
husband,  that's  all." 

The  man  at  her  right  was  Fairfax.  He  was 
gaping  at  Harvey  with  horror  in  his  face.  He, 
too,  had  been  expecting  something  like  this. 
Involuntarily  he  shifted  his  body  so  that  the 
woman  on  the  other  side,  a  huge  creature,  was 
partially  between  him  and  the  little  man  in  the 
door. 

"  Get  him  out  of  here!  "  he  exclaimed. 
"  He's  just  damned  fool  enough  to  do  some 
thing  desperate  if  we " 

1  i  You  shut  up !  "  barked  Harvey,  in  a  sud 
den  access  of  fury.  "  Not  a  word  out  of  you, 
you  big  bully. ' ' 

' '  Get  him  out !  ' '  gasped  Fairfax,  holding  his 
arm  over  his  face.  "  What  did  I  tell  you? 
He's  crazy!  Grab  him,  Smith!  Hurry  up!  " 

"  Grab  him  yourself!  "  retorted  Smith,  in 
some  haste.  "  He's  not  gunning  for  me." 

"What  there  was  to  be  afraid  of  in  the  appear 
ance  of  the  little  ulstered  man  who  stood  there 
with  his  hands  in  his  pockets  I  cannot  for  the 
life  of  me  tell,  but  there  was  no  doubt  as  to  the 
consternation  he  produced  in  the  midst  of  this 
erstwhile  jovial  crowd.  An  abrupt  demand  of 


162  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

courtesy  urged  him  to  raise  his  hand  to  doff 
his  hat  in  the  presence  of  ladies.  Twenty  ter 
rified  eyes  watched  the  movement  as  if  ten  lives 
hung  on  the  result  thereof.  Half  of  the  guests 
were  standing,  the  other  half  too  petrified  to 
move.  A  husband  is  a  thing  to  strike  terror 
to  the  heart,  believe  me,  no  matter  how  trivial 
he  may  be,  especially  an  unexpected  husband. 

"  Go  away,  Harvey!  "  cried  Nellie,  placing 
Fairfax  between  herself  and  the  intruder. 

"Don't  do  that!"  growled  the  big  man, 
sharply.  "  Do  you  suppose  I  want  him  shoot 
ing  holes  through  me  in  order  to  get  at  you  ?  ' ' 

"  Is  he  going  to  shoot?  "  wailed  one  of  the 
women,  dropping  the  wineglass  she  had  been 
holding  poised  near  her  lips  all  this  time.  The 
tinkle  of  broken  glass  and  the  douche  of  cham 
pagne  passed  unnoticed.  "  For  God's  sake, 
let  me  get  out  of  here ! ' ' 

"  Keep  your  seats,  ladies  and  gents,"  said 
Harvey,  hastily,  beginning  to  show  signs  of  con 
fusion.  "  I  just  dropped  in  to  see  Nellie  for 
a  few  minutes.  Don't  let  me  disturb  you.  She 
can  step  into  the  parlour,  I  guess.  They'll  ex 
cuse  you,  Nellie." 

"  I'll  do  nothing  of  the  sort,"  snapped  Nellie, 


THE  EEVOLVEE  163 

noting  the  change  in  him.  "  Go  away  or  I'll 
have  a  policeman  called." 

He  grinned.  "  Well,  if  you  do,  he'll  catch 
me  with  the  goods,"  he  said,  mysteriously. 

"  The  goods?  "  repeated  Nellie. 

1  i  Do  you  want  to  see  it  ?  "he  asked,  fixing  her 
with  his  eyes.  As  he  started  to  withdraw  his 
hand  from  his  overcoat  pocket,  a  general  cry  of 
alarm  went  up  and  there  was  a  sudden  shifting 
of  positions. 

"  Don't  do  that!  "  roared  two  or  three  of  the 
men  in  a  breath. 

' '  Keep  that  thing  in  your  pocket !  ' '  com 
manded  Fairfax,  huskily,  without  removing  his 
gaze  from  the  arm  that  controlled  the  hidden 
hand. 

Harvey  gloated.  He  waved  the  hand  that 
held  his  hat.  "  Don't  be  alarmed,  ladies,"  he 
said.  "  You  are  quite  safe.  I  can  hit  a  silver 
dollar  at  twenty  paces,  so  there's  no  chance  of 
anything  going  wild." 

"  For  God's  sake!  "  gasped  Fairfax.  Sud 
denly  he  disappeared  beneath  the  edge  of  the 
table.  His  knees  struck  the  floor  with  a  re 
sounding  thump. 

' '  Get  away  from  me !  ' '  shrieked  the  cor- 


164  WHAT'S-HIS-NAME 

pulent  lady,  kicking  at  him  as  she  fled  the 
danger  spot. 

Harvey  stooped  and  peered  under  the  table 
at  his  enemy,  a  broad  grin  on  his  face.  Fairfax 
took  it  for  a  grin  of  malevolence. 

' '  Peek-a-boo !  ' '  called  Harvey. 

"  Don't  shoot!  For  the  love  of  Heaven, 
don't  shoot !  "  yelled  Fairfax.  Then  to  the  men 
who  were  edging  away  in  quest  of  safety  be 
hind  the  sideboard,  china  closet,  and  serving 
table: — "  Why  don't  you  grab  him,  you 
idiots?  " 

Harvey  suddenly  realised  the  danger  of  his 
position.  He  straightened  up  and  jerked  the 
revolver  from  his  pocket,  brandishing  it  in  full 
view  of  them  all. 

"  Keep  back!  "  he  shouted — a  most  unneces 
sary  command. 

Those  who  could  not  crowd  behind  the  side 
board  made  a  rush  for  the  butler's  pantry. 
Feminine  shrieks  and  masculine  howls  filled  the 
air.  Chairs  were  overturned  in  the  wild  rush 
for  safety.  No  less  than  three  well-dressed 
women  were  crawling  on  their  hands  and  knees 
toward  the  only  means  of  exit  from  the  room. 

"  Telephone  for  the  police!  "  yelled  Fairfax, 


THE  EEVOLVEE  165 

backing  away  on  all-fours,  suggesting  a  craw 
fish. 

"  Stay  where  you  are!  "  cried  Harvey,  now 
thoroughly  alarmed  by  the  turn  of  affairs. 

They  stopped  as  if  petrified.  The  three  men 
who  were  wedged  in  the  pantry  door  gave  over 
struggling  for  the  right  of  precedence  and 
turned  to  face  the  peril. 

Once  more  he  brandished  the  weapon,  and 
once  more  there  were  shrieks  and  groans,  this 
time  in  a  higher  key. 

Nellie  alone  stood  her  ground.  She  was 
desperate.  Death  was  staring  her  in  the  face, 
and  she  was  staring  back  as  if  fascinated. 

"  Harvey!  Harvey!  "  she  cried,  through 
bloodless  lips.  "  Don't  do  it!  Think  of 
Phoebe !  Think  of  your  child !  ' ' 

Eachel  was  stealing  down  the  hall.  The  lit 
tle  Napoleon  suddenly  realised  her  purpose  and 
thwarted  it. 

"  Come  back  here!  "  he  shouted.  The 
trembling  maid  could  not  obey  for  a  very  ex 
cellent  reason.  She  dropped  to  the  floor  as  if 
shot,  and,  failing  in  the  effort  to  crawl  under 
a  low  hall- seat,  remained  there,  prostrate  and 
motionless. 


166  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

He  then  addressed  himself  to  Nellie,  first  cock 
ing  the  pistol  in  a  most  cold-blooded  manner. 
Paying  no  heed  to  the  commands  and  exhorta 
tions  of  the  men,  or  the  whines  of  the  women, 
he  announced: — 

"  That's  just  what  I've  come  here  to  ask 
you  to  do,  Nellie;  think  of  Phoebe.  Will  you 
promise  me  to " 

"I'll  promise  nothing!"  cried  Nellie,  ex 
asperated.  She  was  beginning  to  feel  ridicu 
lous,  which  was  much  worse  than  feeling  terri 
fied.  "  You  can't  bluff  me,  Harvey,  not  for  a 
minute. ' ' 

"  I'm  not  trying  to  bluff  you,"  he  protested. 
"I'm  simply  asking  you  to  think.  You  can 
think,  can't  you?  If  you  can't  think  here  with 
all  this  noise  going  on,  come  into  the  parlour. 
We  can  talk  it  all  over  quietly  and — why,  great 
Scott,  I  don't  want  to  kill  anybody!  '  Noting 
an  abrupt  change  in  the  attitude  of  the  men, 
who  found  some  encouragement  in  his  manner, 
he  added  hastily,  "  Unless  I  have  to,  of  course. 
Here,  you!  Don't  get  up!  "  The  command 
was  addressed  to  Fairfax.  "  I'd  kind  of  like  to 
take  a  shot  at  you,  just  for  fun. ' ' 

' '  Harvey, ' '  said  his  wife,  quite  calmly,  ' '  if 


THE  EEVOLVEB  167 

you  don't  put  that  thing  in  your  pocket  and  go 
away  I  will  have  you  locked  up  as  sure  as  I'm 
standing  here. ' ' 

"  I  ask  you  once  more  to  come  into  the  par 
lour  and  talk  it  over  with  me,"  said  he,  waver 
ing. 

"  And  I  refuse,"  she  cried,  furiously. 

11  Go  and  have  it  out  with  him,  Nellie," 
groaned  Fairfax,  lifting  his  head  above  the  edge 
of  the  table,  only  to  lower  it  instantly  as  Har 
vey's  hand  wabbled  unsteadily  in  a  sort  of  at 
tempt  to  draw  a  bead  on  him. 

"  Well,  why  don't  you  shoot?  "  demanded 
Nellie,  curtly. 

'  *  No !  No !  ' '  roared  Fairfax. 

' l  No !  No ! ' '  shrieked  the  women. 

"  For  two  cents  I  would,"  stammered  Har 
vey,  quite  carried  away  by  the  renewed  turmoil. 

' '  You  would  do  anything  for  two  cents, ' '  said 
Nellie,  sarcastically. 

"I'd  shoot  myself  for  two  cents,"  he  wailed, 
dismally.  "  I'm  no  use,  anyway.  I'd  be  bet 
ter  off  dead." 

"For  God's  sake  let  him  do  it,  Nellie," 
hissed  Fairfax.  "  That's  the  thing;  the  very; 
thing." 


168  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

Poor  Harvey  suddenly  came  to  a  full  reali 
sation  of  the  position  he  was  in.  He  had  not 
counted  on  all  this.  Now  he  was  in  for  it,  and 
there  was  no  way  out  of  it.  A  vast  sense  of 
shame  and  humiliation  mastered  him.  Every 
thing  before  him  turned  gray  and  bleak,  and 
then  a  hideous  red. 

He  had  not  meant  to  do  a  single  thing  he  had 
already  done.  Events  had  shaped  themselves 
for  him.  He  was  surprised,  dumfounded, 
overwhelmed.  The  only  thought  that  now  ran 
through  his  addled  brain  was  that  he  simply  had 
to  do  something.  He  couldn't  stand  there  for 
ever,  like  a  fool,  waving  a  pistol.  In  a  minute 
or  two  they  would  all  be  laughing  at  him.  It 
was  ghastly.  The  wave  of  self-pity,  of  self- 
commiseration  submerged  him  completely. 
Why,  oh  why,  had  he  got  himself  into  this  dread 
ful  pickle  ?  He  had  merely  come  to  talk  it  over 
with  Nellie,  that  and  nothing  more.  And  now, 
see  what  he  was  in  for ! 

"  By  jingo,"  he  gasped,  in  the  depth  of 
despair,  "  I'll  do  it!  I'll  make  you  sorry,  Nel 
lie;  you'll  be  sorry  when  you  see  me  lying  here 
all  shot  to  pieces.  I've  been  a  good  husband  to 
you.  I  don't  deserve  to  die  like  this,  but " 


THE  REVOLVER  169 

His  watery  blue  eyes  took  in  the  horrified  ex 
pressions  on  the  faces  of  his  hearers.  An  in 
nate  sense  of  delicacy  arose  within  him.  "  I'll 
do  it  in  the  hall." 

"  Be  careful  of  the  rug,"  cried  Nellie,  gayly, 
not  for  an  instant  believing  that  he  would  carry 
out  the  threat. 

* '  Shall  I  do  it  here  !  "  he  asked,  feebly. 

"  No!  "  shrieked  the  women,  putting  their 
fingers  in  their  ears. 

' '  By  all  means ! ' '  cried  Fairfax,  with  a  loud 
laugh  of  positive  relief. 

To  his  own  as  well  as  to  their  amazement, 
Harvey  turned  the  muzzle  of  the  pistol  toward 
his  face.  It  wabbled  aimlessly.  Even  at  such 
short  range  he  had  the  feeling  that  he  would 
miss  altogether  and  looked  over  his  shoulder 
to  see  if  there  was  a  picture  or  anything  else  on 
the  wall  that  might  be  damaged  by  the  stray 
bullet.  Then  he  inserted  the  muzzle  in  his 
mouth. 

Stupefaction  held  his  audience.  Not  a  hand 
was  lifted,  not  a  breath  was  drawn.  For  half  a 
second  his  finger  clung  to  the  trigger  without 
pressing  it.  Then  he  lowered  the  weapon. 

"  I  guess  I  better  go  out  in  the  hall,  where 


170  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

the  elevator  is,"  he  said.  "  Don't  follow  me. 
Stay  where  you  are.  You  needn't  worry." 

"Ill  bet  you  ten  dollars  you  don't  do  it," 
said  Fairfax,  loudly,  as  he  came  to  his  feet. 

"  I  don't  want  your  dirty  money,  blast  you," 
exclaimed  Harvey,  without  thinking.  "  Good- 
by,  Nellie.  Be  good  to  Phoebe.  Tell  'em  out 
in  Blakeville  that  I — oh,  tell  'em  anything  you 
like.  I  don't  give  a  rap !  " 

He  turned  and  went  shambling  down  the  hall, 
his  back  very  stiff,  his  ears  very  red. 

It  was  necessary  to  step  over  Rachel's  pros 
trate  form.  He  got  one  foot  across,  when  she, 
crazed  with  fear,  emitted  a  piercing  shriek  and 
arose  so  abruptly  that  he  was  caught  unawares. 
What  with  the  start  the  shriek  gave  him  and 
the  uprising  of  a  supposedly  inanimate  mass, 
his  personal  equilibrium  was  put  to  the  sever 
est  test.  Indeed,  he  quite  lost  it,  going  first  into 
the  air  with  all  the  sprawl  of  a  bronco  buster, 
and  then  landing  solidly  on  his  left  ear  where 
there  wasn't  a  shred  of  rug  to  ease  the  impact. 
In  a  twinkling,  however,  he  was  on  his  feet, 
apologising  to  Eachel.  But  she  was  crawling 
away  as  fast  as  her  hands  and  knees  would 
carry  her.  From  the  dining-room  came  violent 


THE  REVOLVER  171 

shouts,  the  hated  word  "  police  "  dominating 
the  clamour. 

He  slid  through  the  door  and  closed  it  after 
him.  A  moment  later  he  was  plunging  down 
the  steps,  disdaining  the  elevator,  which,  how 
ever  fast  it  may  have  been,  could  not  have  been 
swift  enough  for  him  in  his  present  mood.  The 
police !  They  would  be  clanging  up  to  the  build 
ing  in  a  jiffy,  and  then  what?  To  the  station 
house ! 

Half-way  down  he  paused  to  reflect.  Voices 
above  came  howling  down  the  shaft,  urging  the 
elevator  man  to  stop  him,  to  hold  him,  to  do  all 
manner  of  things  to  him.  He  felt  himself 
trapped. 

So  he  sat  down  on  an  upper  step,  leaned  back 
against  the  marble  wall,  closed  his  eyes  tightly, 
and  jammed  the  muzzle  of  the  revolver  against 
the  pit  of  his  stomach. 

"  I  hate  to  do  it,"  he  groaned,  and  then  pulled 
the  trigger. 

The  hammer  fell  with  a  sharp  click.  He 
opened  his  eyes.  If  it  didn't  hurt  any  more 
than  that  he  could  do  it  with  them  open.  Why 
not  ?  In  a  frenzy  to  have  it  over  with  he  pulled 
again  and  was  gratified  to  find  that  the  second 


172  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

bullet  was  not  a  whit  more  painful  than  the 
first.  Then  he  thought  of  the  ugly  spectacle  he 
would  present  if  he  confined  the  mutilation  to 
the  abdominal  region.  People  would  shudder 
and  say,  "  how  horrible  he  looks !  ':  So  he  con 
siderately  aimed  the  third  one  at  his  right  eye. 

Even  as  he  pulled  the  trigger,  and  the  ham 
mer  fell  with  the  usual  click,  his  vision  centred 
on  the  black  little  hole  in  the  end  of  the  barrel. 
Breathlessly  he  waited  for  the  bullet  to  emerge. 
Then,  all  of  a  sudden,  he  recalled  that  there  had 
been  no  explosion.  The  fact  had  escaped  him 
during  the  throes  of  a  far  from  disagreeable 
death.  He  put  his  hand  to  his  stomach.  In  a 
dumb  sort  of  wonder  he  first  examined  his 
fingers,  and,  finding  no  gore,  proceeded  to  a 
rather  careful  inspection  of  the  weapon. 

Then  he  leaned  back  and  dizzily  tried  to  re 
member  when  he  had  taken  the  cartridges  out 
of  the  thing. 

"  Thank  the  Lord,'*  he  said,  quite  devoutly. 
"  I  thought  I  was  a  goner,  sure.  Now,  when 
did  I  take  'em  out?  " 

The  elevator  shot  past  him,  going  upward. 
He  paid  no  attention  to  it. 

It  all  came  back  to  him  in  a  flash.    He  re- 


THE  REVOLVER  173 

membered  that  he  had  never  loaded  it  at  all. 
A  loaded  pistol  is  a  very  dangerous  thing  to 
have  about  the  house.  The  little  box  of  car 
tridges  that  came  with  the  weapon  was  safely 
locked  away  at  the  bottom  of  the  trunk, 
wrapped  in  a  thick  suit  of  underwear  for  pro 
tection  against  concussion. 

Even  as  he  congratulated  himself  on  his  re 
markable  foresight  the  elevator,  filled  with  ex 
cited  men,  rushed  past  him  on  the  way  down. 
He  heard  them  saying  that  a  dangerous  lunatic 

was  at  large  and  that  he  ought  to  be But 

he  couldn't  hear  the  rest  of  it,  the  car  being  so 
far  below  him. 

' l  By  jingo !  "  he  exclaimed,  leaping  to  his 
feet  in  consternation.  "  They'll  get  me  now. 
What  a  blamed  fool  I  was !  ' ' 

Scared  out  of  his  wits,  he  dashed  up  the 
steps,  three  at  a  jump,  and,  before  he  knew  it, 
ran  plump  into  the  midst  of  the  women  who 
were  huddled  at  Nellie's  landing,  waiting  for 
the  shots  and  the  death  yells  from  below.  They 
scattered  like  sheep,  too  frightened  to  scream, 
and  he  plunged  through  the  open  door  into  the 
apartment. 

"Where    are    you,    Nellie?"    he    bawled. 


174  WHAT'S-HIS-NAME 

"  Hide  me!  Don't  let  'em  get  me.  Nellie! 
Oh,  Nellie!" 

The  shout  would  have  raised  the  dead.  Nel 
lie  was  at  the  telephone.  She  dropped  the  re 
ceiver  and  came  toward  him. 

"  Aren't  you  ashamed  of  yourself!  "  she 
squealed,  clutching  his  arm.  * '  What  an  awful 
spectacle  you've  made  of  yourself — and  me! 
You  blithering  little  idiot.  I " 

t '  Where  can  I  hide  I  "  he  whispered,  hopping 
up  and  down  in  his  eagerness.  "  Hurry  up! 
Under  a  bed  or — anywhere.  Good  gracious, 
Nellie,  they  '11  get  me  sure !  ' ' 

She  slammed  the  door. 

"  I  ought  to  let  them  take  you  and  lock  you 
up,"  she  said,  facing  him.  The  abject  terror 
in  his  eyes  went  straight  to  her  heart.  "  Oh, 
you  poor  thing!  ':'  she  cried,  in  swift  com 
passion.  "  You — you  wouldn't  hurt  a  fly. 
You  couldn't.  Come  along!  Quick!  I'll  do 
this  much  for  you,  just  this  once.  Never 
again!  You  can  get  down  the  back  steps 
into  the  alley  if  you  hurry.  Then  beat  it 
for  home.  And  never  let  me  see  your  face 
again." 

Three  minutes  later  he  was  scuttling  down 


THE  EEVOLVER  175 

the  alley  as  fast  as  his  eager  legs  could  carry 
him. 

Nellie  was  holding  the  front  door  against  the 
thunderous  assault  of  a  half  dozen  men,  giving 
him  time  to  escape.  All  the  while  she  was 
thinking  of  the  depositions  she  could  take  from 
the  witnesses  to  his  deliberate  attempt  to  kill 
her.  He  had  made  it  very  easy  for  her. 


CHAPTER  VH 

THE  LAWYER 

HE  was  dismally  confident  that  he  would  be  ar 
rested  and  thrown  into  jail  on  Friday.  It  was 
always  an  unlucky  day  for  him.  The  fact  that 
Nellie  had  aided  and  abetted  in  his  undignified 
flight  down  the  slippery  back  steps  did  not  in 
the  least  minimise  the  peril  that  still  hung  like 
a  cloud  over  his  wretched  head.  Of  course,  he 
understood :  she  was  sorry  for  him.  It  was  the 
impulse  of  the  moment.  When  she  had  had 
time  to  think  it  all  over  and  to  listen  to  the 
advice  of  Fairfax  and  the  others,  she  would 
certainly  swear  out  a  warrant. 

As  a  measure  of  precaution  he  had  slyly 
tossed  the  revolver  from  a  car  window  some 
where  north  of  Spuyten  Duyvil,  and,  later  on 
at  home,  stealthily  disposed  of  the  box  of  car 
tridges. 

All  evening  long  he  sat  huddled  up  by  the  fire 
place,  listening  with  all  ears  for  the  ominous 
sound  of  constabulary  thumpings  at  the  front 
door.  The  fierce  wind  shrieked  around  the 

176 


THE  LAWYER  177 

corners  of  the  house,  rattling  the  shutters  and 
banging  the  kitchen  gate,  but  he  heard  nothing, 
for  his  own  heart  made  such  a  din  in  response 
to  the  successive  bursts  of  noise  that  all  else 
seemed  still  by  comparison. 

His  efforts  to  amuse  the  perplexed  Phoebe 
were  pitiful.  The  child  took  him  to  task  for 
countless  lapses  of  memory  in  his  recital  of 
oft-told  and  familiar  fairy  tales. 

But  no  one  came  that  night.  And  Friday, 
too,  dragged  itself  out  of  existence  without  a 
sign  from  Nellie  or  the  dreaded  officers  of  the 
law.  You  may  be  sure  he  did  not  poke  his  nose 
outside  the  door  all  that  day.  Somehow  he  was 
beginning  to  relish  the  thought  that  she  would 
be  gone  on  Sunday,  gone  forever,  perhaps.  He 
loved  her,  of  course,  but  distance  at  this  par 
ticular  time  was  not  likely  to  affect  the  enchant 
ment.  In  fact,  he  was  quite  sure  he  would  wor 
ship  her  a  great  deal  more  comfortably  if  she 
were  beyond  the  border  of  the  State. 

The  thought  of  punishment  quite  over 
shadowed  a  previous  dread  as  to  how  he  was 
going  to  provide  for  Phoebe  and  himself  up  to 
the  time  of  assuming  the  job  in  Davis'  drug 
store.  He  had  long  since  come  to  the  conclu- 


178  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

sion  that  if  Nellie  persisted  in  carrying  out  her 
plan  to  divorce  him  he  could  not  conscientiously 
accept  help  from  her,  nor  could  he  expect  to 
retain  custody  of  the  child  unless  by  his  own 
efforts  he  made  suitable  provision  for  her.  His 
one  great  hope  in  the  face  of  this  particular  dif 
ficulty  had  rested  on  the  outcome  of  the  visit  to 
her  apartment,  the  miserable  result  of  which  we 
know.  Not  only  had  he  upset  all  of  his  fondest 
calculations,  but  he  had  heaped  unthinkable 
ruin  in  the  place  he  had  set  aside  for  them. 

There  was  nothing  consoling  in  the  situation, 
no  matter  how  he  looked  at  it.  More  than  once 
he  regretted  the  emptiness  of  that  confounded 
cylinder.  If  there  had  been  a  single  bullet 
in  the  thing  his  troubles  would  now  be  over. 
Pleasing  retrospect !  But  not  for  all  the  money 
in  the  world  would  he  again  subject  himself  to 
a  similar  risk. 

It  made  him  shudder  to  even  think  of  it.  It 
was  hard  enough  for  him  to  realise  that  he  had 
had  the  monumental  courage  to  try  it  on  that 
never  to  be  forgotten  occasion.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  he  was  rather  proud  of  it,  which  wouldn  't 
have  been  at  all  possible  if  he  had  succeeded  in 
the  cowardly  attempt. 


THE  LAWYER  179 

Suppose,  thought  he  with  a  qualm — suppose 
there  had  been  a  bullet !  It  was  mow  Saturday. 
His  funeral  would  be  held  on  Saturday.  By 
Saturday  night  he  would  be  in  a  grave — a  lone 
some,  desolate  grave.  Nellie  would  have  seen 
to  that,  so  that  she  could  get  away  on  Sunday. 
Ugh !  It  was  most  unpleasant ! 

The  day  advanced.  His  spirits  were  rising. 
If  nothing  happened  between  then  and  midnight 
he  was  reasonably  secure  from  arrest. 

But  in  the  middle  of  the  day  the  blow 
fell.  Not  the  expected  blow,  but  one  that 
stunned  him  and  left  him  more  miserable 
than  anything  else  in  the  world  could  have 
done. 

There  came  a  polite  knock  at  the  door. 
Annie  admitted  a  pleasant-faced,  rather  cere 
monious  young  man,  who  said  he  had  business 
of  the  utmost  importance  to  transact  with  Mr. — 
Mr. —  He  glanced  at  a  paper  which  he  drew 
from  his  pocket,  and  supplying  the  name  asked 
if  the  gentleman  was  in. 

Harvey  was  tiptoing  toward  the  dining- 
room,  with  Phoebe  at  his  heels,  when  the 
stranger  entered  the  library. 

"  Pardon  me,"  called  the  young  man,  with 


180  WHAT'S-HIS-NAME 

what  seemed  to  Harvey  unnecessary  haste  and 
emphasis.  "  Just  a  moment,  please!  " 

Harvey  stopped,  chilled  to  the  marrow. 

"  It  was  all  a  joke,"  he  said,  quickly.  "  Just 
a  little  joke  of  mine.  Ha!  Ha!  "  It  was  a 
sepulchral  laugh. 

"  I  am  John  Buckley,  from  the  offices  of 
Barnes  &  Canby,  representing  Miss  Duluth, 
your  wife,  I  believe!  It  isn't  a  pleasant  duty  I 
have  to  perform  Mr. — Mr — er — but,  of  course, 
you  understand  we  are  acting  in  the  interests 
of  our  client  and  if  we  can  get  together  on 

"  Can't  you  come  some  other  day?  "  stam 
mered  Harvey,  holding  Phoebe's  hand  very 
tightly  in  his.  "  I'm — I'm  not  well  to-day. 
We — we  are  waiting  now  for  the  health  officer 
to — to  see  whether  it's  smallpox  or  just  a  rash 
of " 

The  pleasant  young  gentleman  laughed. 

il  All  the  more  necessary  why  we  should 
settle  the  question  at  once.  If  it  is  smallpox 
the  child  would  be  quarantined  with  you — that 
would  be  unfortunate.  You  don't  appear  to 
have  a  rash,  however." 

"  It  hasn't  got  up  to  my  face  yet,"  explained 


THE  LAWYER  181 

Harvey,  feebly.  "  You  ought  to  see  my  body. 
It's " 

"  I've  had  it,"  announced  the  young  man, 
glibly;  "  so  I'm  immune."  He  winked. 

"  What  do  you  want?  "  demanded  Harvey, 
bracing  himself  for  the  worst.  "  Out  with  it. 
Let's  see  your  star." 

"  Oh,  I'm  not  a  cop.    I'm  a  lawyer." 

The  other  swallowed  noisily. 

"A  lawyer?" 

"  We  represent  Miss  Duluth.  I'll  get  down 
to  tacks  right  away,  if  youll  permit  me  to  sit 
down."  He  took  a  chair. 

"  Tacks?  "  queried  Harvey,  a  retrospective 
grin  appearing  on  his  lips.  "  Gee !  I  wish  I'd 

thought  to  put  a  couple But,  excuse  me,  I 

can't  talk  without  my  lawyer  being  present." 

The  visitor  stared.  "  You — do  you  mean  to 
say  you  have  retained  counsel?  " 

"  The  best  in  New  York,"  lied  Harvey. 

Buckley  gave  a  sigh  of  relief.  He  knew  a  lie 
when  he  heard  one. 

"I'd  suggest  that  you  send  the  little  girl  out 
of  the  room.  We  can  talk  better  if  we  are 
alone." 

After  Phoebe's  reluctant  departure,  the  vis- 


182  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

itor  bluntly  asked  Harvey  which  he  preferred, 
State's  prison  or  an  amicable  adjustment  with 
out  dishonour. 

"  Neither, "  said  Harvey,  moistening  his  lips. 

Thereupon  Mr.  Buckley  calmly  announced 
that  his  client,  Miss  Duluth,  was  willing  to 
forego  the  pleasure  of  putting  him  behind  the 
bars  on  condition  that  he  surrendered  at  once 
the  person  of  their  child — their  joint  child,  he 
put  it,  so  that  Harvey  might  not  be  unneces 
sarily  confused — to  be  reared,  educated,  and 
sustained  by  her,  without  let  or  hindrance,  from 
that  time  forward,  so  on  and  so  forth;  a  be 
wildering  rigmarole  that  meant  nothing  to  the 
stupefied  father,  who  only  knew  that  they 
wanted  to  take  his  child  away  from  him. 

"  Moreover,"  said  Mr.  Buckley,  "  our  client 
has  succeeded  in  cancelling  the  lease  on  this 
cottage  and  has  authorised  the  owner  to  take 
possession  on  the  first  of  the  month — next 
[Wednesday,  that  is.  Monday  morning,  bright 
and  early,  the  packers  and  movers  will  be  here 
to  take  all  of  her  effects  away.  Tuesday  night, 
we  hope,  the  house  will  be  quite  empty  and 
ready  to  be  boarded  up.  Of  course,  Mr. — 
Mr. — er — ,  you  will  see  to  it  that  whatever 


THE  LAWYER  183 

trifling  effects  you  may  have  about  the  place 
are  removed  by  that  time.  After  that,  natu 
rally,  little  Miss  Phoebe  will  be  homeless  unless 
provision  is  made  for  her  by — er — by  the  court. 
We  hope  to  convince  you  that  it  will  be  better 
for  her  if  the  question  is  not  referred  to  a  court 
of  justice.  Your  own  good  sense  will  point  the 
alternative.  Do  I  make  myself  quite  clear  to 
you?  " 

"  No,"  said  Harvey,  helplessly. 

"  Well,  I'll  be  a  little  more  explicit,"  said 
the  lawyer,  grimly.  ' '  A  warrant  will  be  issued 
for  your  arrest  before  two  o'clock  to-day  if  you 
do  not  grasp  my  meaning  before  that  hour.  It 
is  twelve-ten  now.  Do  you  think  you  can  catch 
the  idea  in  an  hour  and  fifty  minutes  ?  ' ' 

Harvey  was  thoughtful.  ''What  is  the 
smallest  sentence  they  can  give  me  if  I — if  I 
stand  trial?  " 

"  That  depends,"  said  Mr.  Buckley,  slightly 
taken  aback,  but  without  submitting  an  ex 
planation.  "  You  don't  want  to  bring  disgrace 
on  the  child  by  being  branded  as  a  jailbird,  do 
you?  ' 

"  Nellie  won't  have  the  heart  to  put  me  in 
jail,"  groaned  the  unhappy  little  man.  "  She 


184  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

— she  just  can't  do  it.  She  knows  I'd  die  for 
her.  She " 

11  But  she  isn't  the  State  of  New  York,"  ex 
plained  her  counsel,  briskly.  "  The  State 
hasn't  anything  in  the  shape  of  a  heart.  Now, 
I'm  here  to  settle  the  matter  without  a  contest, 
if  that's  possible.  If  you  want  to  fight,  all 
right.  You  know  just  what  you'll  get.  Be 
sides,  isn't  it  perfectly  clear  to  you  that  Miss 
Duluth  doesn't  want  to  put  you  in  jail?  That's 
her  idea,  pure  and  simple.  I  don't  mind  con 
fessing  that  our  firm  insisted  for  a  long  time  on 
giving  you  up  to  the  authorities,  but  she 
wouldn't  have  it  that  way.  She  wants  her 
little  girl,  that's  all.  Isn't  that  perfectly 
fair?  " 

"  She's — she's  going  to  give  up  the  house?  " 
murmured  Harvey,  passing  his  hand  over  his 
eyes. 

"  Certainly." 

"It's  a  mighty  inconvenient  time  for  us  to 
— to  look  for  another  place " 

"  That's  just  what  I've  been  saying  to  you," 
urged  Buckley.  "  The  Weather  Bureau  says 
we'll  have  zero  weather  for  a  month  or  two.  I 
shudder  to  think  of  that  poor  child  out  in " 


THE  LAWYER  185 

' '  Oh,  Lord !  ' '  came  almost  in  a  wail  from  the 
lips  of  Phoebe's  father.  He  covered  his  face 
with  his  hands.  Mr.  Buckley,  unseen,  smiled 
triumphantly. 

At  four  o'clock  Phoebe,  with  all  her  childish 
penates,  was  driven  to  the  station  by  Mr.  Buck 
ley,  who,  it  would  appear,  had  come  prepared 
for  the  emergency.  Before  leaving  he  gave 
the  two  servants  a  month's  wages  and  a  two 
weeks'  notice  dating  from  the  18th  of  Decem 
ber  and  left  with  Harvey  sufficient  money  to 
pay  up  all  the  outstanding  bills  of  the  last 
month — with  a  little  left  over. 

"We  draw  a  curtain  on  the  parting  that  took 
place  in  the  little  library  just  before  the  cab 
drove  away. 

Phoebe  was  going  to  Eeno. 

Long,  long  after  the  departure  her  father 
lifted  his  half-closed  blue  eyes  from  the  coals  in 
the  grate  and  discovered  that  the  room  was  ice- 
cold. 

9  •  *  •  •  •  * 

He  understood  the  habits  of  astute  theatrical 
managers  so  well  by  this  time  that  he  did  not 
have  to  be  told  that  the  company  would  journey 
to  Chicago  by  one  of  the  slow  trains.  The 


186  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

comfort  and  convenience  of  the  player  is  sel 
dom  considered  by  the  manager,  who,  as  a  mler 
when  there  is  time  to  spare,  transports  his  pro 
duction  by  the  least  expensive  way.  Harvey 
knew  that  Nellie  and  the  ' '  Up  in  the  Air  ' '  com 
pany  would  pass  through  Tarrytown  on  the 
pokiest  day  train  leaving  New  York  over  the 
Central.  There  was,  of  course,  the  possibility 
that  the  affluent  Nellie  might  take  the  eighteen- 
hour  train,  but  it  was  somewhat  remote. 

Sunday  morning  found  him  at  the  Tarrytown 
station,  awaiting  the  arrival  or  the  passing  of 
the  train  bearing  the  loved  ones  who  were  cast 
ing  him  off.  He  was  there  early,  bundled  in 
his  ulster,  an  old  Blakeville  cap  pulled  down 
over  his  ears,  a  limp  cigarette  between  his  lips. 
A  few  of  the  station  employes  knew  him  and 
passed  the  time  of  day. 

"  Going  in  rather  early,  ain't  you,  Mr. — 
Mr. — "  remarked  the  station  master,  clapping 
his  hands  to  generate  warmth. 

11  No,"  said  Harvey,  leaving  the  inquirer  in 
the  dark  as  to  whether  he  referred  to  a  condi 
tion  or  a  purpose. 

A  couple  of  hours  and  a  dozen  trains  went  by. 
Harvey,  having  exhausted  his  supply  of  cigar- 


THE  LAWYER  187 

ettes,  effected  the  loan  of  one  from  the  ticket 
agent. 

"  Waiting  for  some  one,  sir?  "  asked  that 
worthy.  "  Or  are  you  just  down  to  see  the 
cars  go  by?  " 

"  What  time  does  the  Chicago  train  go 
through?  "  asked  Harvey. 

"  Any  particular  one?  " 

"  No;  I'm  not  particular.'* 

"  There's  one  at  eleven-forty." 

"  I'm  much  ohliged." 

He  was  panic-stricken  when  the  train  at  last 
appeared  and  gave  unmistakable  signs  of  stop 
ping  at  Tarrytown.  Moved  by  an  inexplicable 
impulse,  he  darted  behind  a  pile  of  trunks.  His 
dearest  hope  had  been  that  Phoebe  might  be 
on  the  lookout  for  him  as  the  cars  whizzed 
through,  and  that  she  would  waft  a  final  kiss  to 
him.  But  it  was  going  to  stop!  He  hadn't 
counted  on  that.  It  was  most  embarrass 
ing. 

From  his  hiding  place  he  watched  the  long 
line  of  sleepers  roll  by,  slower  and  slower,  until 
with  a  wheeze  they  came  to  a  full  stop.  His 
eager  eyes  took  in  every  window  that  passed. 
There  was  no  sign  of  Phoebe.  Somewhat  em- 


188  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

boldened,  he  ventured  forth  from  shelter  and 
strolled  along  the  platform  for  a  more  delib 
erate  scrutiny  of  the  windows. 

The  feeling  of  disappointment  was  intense. 
He  had  never  known  loneliness  so  great  as  this 
which  came  to  him  now.  The  droop  to  his 
shoulders  became  a  little  more  pronounced  as  he 
turned  dejectedly  to  re-enter  the  waiting-room. 
The  train  began  to  move  out  as  he  neared  the 
corner  of  the  building.  The  last  coach  crept 
by.  He  watched  it  dully. 

A  shrill  cry  caught  his  ear.  His  eyes,  sud 
denly  alert,  focussed  themselves  on  the  observa 
tion  platform  of  the  private  car  as  it  picked  up 
speed  and  began  the  diminishing  process. 
Braced  against  the  garish  brass  bars  that  en 
closed  the  little  platform  was  Phoebe,  in  her 
white  fur  coat  and  hood,  her  mittened  fingers 
clutching  the  rail,  above  which  her  rosy  face 
appeared  as  the  result  of  eager  tiptoeing.  The 
excellent  Kachel  stood  behind  the  child,  cold 
and  unsmiling. 

11  Hello,  daddy!  "  screamed  Phoebe,  manag 
ing  to  toss  him  a  kiss,  just  as  he  had  hoped  and 
expected. 

The  response  cracked  in  his  throat.    It  was 


THE  LAWYER  189 

a  miserable  croak  that  he  sent  back,  but  he  blew 
her  a  dozen  kisses. 

"  Good-bye,  daddy!  "  came  the  shrill  adieu, 
barely  audible  above  the  clatter  of  the  receding 
train. 

He  stood  quite  still  until  the  last  coach  van 
ished  up  the  track.  The  tears  on  his  cheeks 
were  frozen. 

Some  one  was  speaking  to  him. 

"  Ain't  you  going  West  with  'em,  Mr. , 

Mr. 1  "  queried  the  baggage  master. 

Harvey  gazed  at  him  dumbly  for  a  moment 
or  two.  Then  he  lifted  his  chin. 

"  I — I've  got  to  wait  over  a  few  days  to  see 
to  the  packing  and  storing  of  my  household  ef 
fects,"  he  said,  briskly.  Then  he  trudged  up 
the  hill. 

Sure  enough,  the  packers  appeared  "  bright 
and  early  "  Monday  morning,  just  as  Buckley 
had  said  they  would.  By  nine  o  'clock  the  house 
was  upside  down  and  by  noon  it  was  full  of  ex 
celsior,  tar  paper,  and  crating  materials.  The 
rasp  of  the  saw  and  the  bang  of  the  hammer 
resounded  throughout  the  little  cottage.  Burly 
men  dragged  helpless  and  unresisting  articles 
of  furniture  about  as  if  they  had  a  personal 


190  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

grudge  against  each  separate  piece,  and 
pounded  them,  and  drove  nails  into  them,  and 
mutilated  them,  and  scratched  them,  and  splin 
tered  them,  and  after  they  were  completely  con 
quered  marked  their  pine  board  coffins  with  the 
name  "  Nellie  Duluth,"  after  which  they  were 
ready  for  the  fireproof  graveyard  in  Harlem. 

Dazed  and  unsteady,  Harvey  watched  the 
proceedings  with  the  air  of  one  who  superin 
tends.  He  gave  a  few  instructions,  offered  one 
or  two  suggestions — principally  as  to  the  state 
of  the  weather — and  was  on  the  jump  all  day 
long  to  keep  out  of  the  way  of  the  energetic 
wjorkmen.  He  had  seen  Marceline  at  the  Hip 
podrome  on  one  memorable  occasion.  Some 
how  he  reminded  himself  of  the  futile  but 
nimble  clown,  who  was  always  in  the  way  and 
whose  good  intentions  invariably  were  attended 
by  disaster. 

The  foreman  of  the  gang,  doubtless  with  a 
shrewd  purpose  in  mind,  opened  half  the  win 
dows  in  the  house,  thus  forcing  his  men  to  work 
fast  and  furiously  or  freeze.  Harvey  almost 
perished  in  the  icy  draughts.  He  shut  the 
front  door  fifty  times  or  more,  and  was  begin 
ning  to  sniffle  and  sneeze  when  Bridget  took 


THE  LAWYER  191 

pity  on  him  and  invited  him  into  the  kitchen. 
He  hngged  the  cook  stove  for  several  hours, 
mutely  watching  the  two  servants  through  the 
open  door  of  their  joint  bedroom  off  the  kitchen 
while  they  stuffed  their  meagre  belongings  into 
a  couple  of  trunks. 

At  last  it  occurred  to  him  that  it  would  be 
well  to  go  upstairs  and  pack  his  own  trunk  be 
fore  the  workmen  got  to  asking  questions.  He 
carried  his  set  of  Dickens  upstairs,  not  without 
interrogation,  and  stored  the  volumes  away  at 
the  bottom  of  his  trunk.  So  few  were  his  in 
dividual  belongings  that  he  was  hard  put  to  fill 
the  trays  compactly  enough  to  prevent  the  shift 
ing  of  the  contents.  When  the  job  was  done 
he  locked  the  trunk,  tied  a  rope  around  it  and 
then  sat  down  upon  it  to  think.  Had  he  left 
anything  out?  He  remembered  something.  He 
untied  the  knots,  unlocked  the  trunk,  shifted 
half  of  the  contents  and  put  in  his  fishing  tackle 
and  an  onyx  clock  Nellie  had  given  him  for 
Christmas  two  years  before. 

Later  on  he  repeated  the  operation  and  made 
room  for  a  hand  saw,  an  auger,  a  plane,  and  a 
hatchet;  also  a  smoking- jacket  she  had  given 
him,  and  a  lot  of  paper  dolls  Phoebe  had  left 


192  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

behind.  (Late  that  night,  after  the  lights  were 
out,  he  remembered  the  framed  motto,  "  God 
Bless  Our  Home,"  which  his  dear  old  mother 
had  worked  for  him  in  yarns  of  variegated  hues 
while  they  were  honeymooning  in  Blakeville. 
The  home  was  very  cold  and  still,  and  the  floor 
was  strewn  with  nails,  but  he  got  out  of  bed 
and  put  the  treasure  in  the  top  tray  of  the 
trunk.) 

Along  about  four  in  the  afternoon  he  experi 
enced  a  sensation  of  uneasiness — even  alarm. 
It  began  to  look  as  if  the  workmen  would  have 
the  entire  job  completed  by  nightfall.  In  con 
siderable  trepidation  he  accosted  the  foreman. 

"  If  it's  just  the  same  to  you  I'd  rather  you 
wouldn't  pack  the  beds  until  to-morrow — that 
is,  of  course,  if  you  are  coming  back  to-mor 
row.  ' ' 

"  Maybe  we'll  get  around  to  'em  and  maybe 
we  won't,"  said  the  foreman,  carelessly. 
"  We've  got  to  pack  the  kitchen  things  to-mor 
row  and  the  china." 

"  You  see,  it's  this  way,"  said  Harvey. 
"  I've  got  to  sleep  somewhere!  " 

' '  I  see, ' '  said  the  foreman,  and  went  on  with 
his  work,  leaving  Harvey  in  doubt. 


THE  LAWYER  193 

"  Have  a  cigar?  "  lie  asked,  after  a  doleful 
pause.  The  man  took  it  and  looked  at  it 
keenly. 

"  I'll  smoke  it  after  a  while,"  he  said. 

"  Do  the  best  you  can  about  the  bed  in  the 
back  room  upstairs,"  said  Harvey,  engagingly. 

An  express  wagon  came  at  five  o'clock  and 
removed  the  servants'  trunks.  A  few  minutes 
later  the  two  domestics,  be-hatted  and  cloaked, 
came  up  to  say  good-bye  to  him. 

"You're  not  leaving  to-day?"  he  cried, 
aghast. 

"  If  it's  just  the  same  to  you,  sor,"  said 
Bridget.  "  We've  both  got  places  beginnin' 
to-morry. ' ' 

"  But  who'll  cook  my " 

"  Niver  you  worry  about  that,  sor;  I've  left 
a  dozen  av  eggs,  some  bacon,  rolls,  and " 

"  All  right.  Good-bye,"  broke  in  the  master, 
turning  away. 

"  Good  luck,  sor,"  said  Bridget,  amiably. 
Then  they  went  away. 

His  dismal  reflections  were  broken  by  the 
foreman,  who  found  him  in  the  kitchen. 

"  We'll  be  back  early  in  the  morning  and 
clean  up  everything.  The  van  will  be  here  at 


194  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

ten.  Is  everything  here  to  go  to  the  warehouse? 
I  notice  some  things  that  look  as  though  they 
might  belong  to  you  personally. ' ' 

There  were  a  few  pieces  of  furniture  and 
bric-a-brac  that  Harvey  could  claim  as  his  own. 
He  stared  gloomily  at  the  floor  for  a  long 
time,  thinking.  Of  what  use  were  they  to  him 
now?  And  where  was  he  to  put  them  in  case 
he  claimed  them? 

"  I  guess  you'd  better  store  everything,"  he 
said,  dejectedly.  "  They — they  all  go  to 
gether.  ' ' 

11  The — your  trunk,  sir;  how  about  that?  " 

11  If  you  think  you've  got  room  for  it,  I " 

"  Sure  we  have." 

"  Take  it,  too.  I'm  going  to  pack  what 
clothes  I  need  in  a  suitcase.  So  much  easier  to 
carry  than  a  trunk."  He  was  unconsciously 
funny,  and  did  not  understand  the  well-meant 
guffaw  of  the  foreman. 

It  was  a  dreary,  desolate  night  that  he  spent 
in  the  topsy-turvy  cottage.  He  was  quite  alone 
except  for  the  queer  shapes  and  shadows  that 
haunted  him.  When  he  was  downstairs  he 
could  hear  strange  whisperings  above ;  when  he 
was  upstairs  the  mutterings  were  below. 


THE  LAWYER  195 

Things  stirred  and  creaked  that  had  never 
shown  signs  of  animation  before.  The  coals 
in  the  fireplace  spat  with  a  malignant  fury,  as 
if  blown  upon  by  evil  spirits  lurking  in  the 
chimney  until  he  went  to  bed  so  that  they 
might  come  forth  to  revel  in  the  gloom.  The 
howl  of  the  wind  had  a  different  note,  a  wail 
that  seemed  to  come  from  a  child  in  pain;  for 
bidding  sounds  came  up  from  the  empty  cellar ; 
always  there  was  something  that  stood  directly 
behind  him,  ready  to  lay  on  a  ghostly  hand.  He 
crouched  in  the  chair,  feeling  never  so  small, 
never  so  impotent  as  now.  The  chair  was  par 
tially  wrapped  for  crating.  Every  time  he 
moved  there  was  a  crackle  of  paper  that 
sounded  like  the  rattle  of  thunder  before  the 
final  ear-splitting  crash.  As  still  as  a  mouse 
he  sat  and  listened  for  new  sounds,  more  sin 
ister  than  those  that  had  gone  before ;  and,  like 
the  mouse,  he  jumped  with  each  recurring 
sound. 

Towering  crates  seemed  on  the  verge  of 
toppling  over  upon  him,  boxes  and  barrels  ap 
peared  to  draw  closer  together  to  present  a 
barrier  against  any  means  of  escape;  cords 
and  ropes  wriggled  with  life  as  he  stared  at 


196  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

them,  serpentine  things  that  kept  on  creeping 
toward  himr  never  away. 

Oh,  for  the  sound  of  Phoebe's  voice! 

"  Quoth  the  raven,  nevermore!  "  That 
sombre  sentence  haunted  him.  He  tried  to 
close  his  ears  against  it,  but  to  no  purpose.  It 
crept  up  from  some  inward  lurking  place  in  his 
being,  crooning  a  hundred  cadences  in  spite  of 
all  that  he  could  do  to  change  the  order  of  his 
thoughts. 

Far  in  the  night  he  dashed  fearfully  up  to 
his  dismantled  bedroom,  a  flickering  candle  in 
his  hand.  He  had  gone  about  the  place  to  see 
that  all  of  the  doors  and  windows  were  fas 
tened.  Eemoving  his  shoes  and  his  coat,  he 
hurriedly  crawled  in  between  the  blankets  and 
blew  out  the  light.  Sleep  would  not  come.  He 
was  sobbing.  He  got  up  twice  and  lighted  the 
candle,  once  to  put  away  the  motto,  again  to 
take  out  of  the  trunk  the  cabinet  size  photograph 
of  himself  and  Nellie  and  the  baby,  taken  when 
the  latter  was  three  years  old.  Hugging  this  to 
his  breast,  he  started  back  to  bed. 

A  sudden  thought  staggered  him.  For  a 
long  time  he  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  room, 
shivering  as  he  debated  the  great  question  this 


THE  LAWYER  197 

thought  presented.  At  last,  with  a  shudder, 
he  urged  his  reluctant  feet  to  carry  him  across 
the  room  to  the  single  gas  jet.  Closing  his  eyes 
he  turned  on  the  gas  full  force  and  then  leaped 
into  the  bed,  holding  the  portrait  to  his  heart. 
Then  he  waited  for  the  end  of  everything. 

When  he  opened  his  eyes  broad  daylight  was 
streaming  in  upon  him.  Some  one  was  pound 
ing  on  the  door  downstairs.  He  leaped  out  of 
bed  and  began  to  pull  on  his  shoes. 

Suddenly  it  occurred  to  him  that  by  all  rights 
he  should  be  lying  there  stiff  and  cold,  suf 
focated  by  the  escaping  gas.  He  sniffed  the 
air.  There  was  no  odour  of  gas.  With  a  gasp 
of  alarm  he  rushed  over  and  turned  off  the  stop 
cock,  a  cold  perspiration  coming  out  all  over 
him. 

"  Gee,  I  hope  I'm  in  time!  "he  groaned 
aloud.  "  I  don't  want  to  die.  I — I — it's  dif 
ferent  in  the  daytime.  The  darkness  did  it. 

I  hope  I'm "  Then,  considerably  puzzled, 

he  interrupted  himself  to  turn  the  thing  on 
again.  He  stood  on  his  toes  to  smell  the  tip. 
* '  By  jingo,  I  remember  now,  that  fellow  turned 
it  off  in  the  meter  yesterday.  Oh,  Lord;  what 
a  close  call  I've  had!  " 


198  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

He  was  so  full  of  glee  when  he  opened  the 
door  to  admit  the  packers  that  they  neglected, 
in  their  astonishment,  to  growl  at  him  for 
keeping  them  standing  in  the  cold  for  fifteen 
or  twenty  minutes. 

"  Thought  maybe  you'd  gone  and  done  it," 
said  the  foreman.  "  Took  poison  or  turned  on 
the  gas,  or  something.  You  was  mighty  blue 
yesterday,  Mr. — Mr.  Duluth." 

With  the  arrival  of  the  van  he  set  off  to  pay 
the  bills  due  the  tradespeople  in  town,  return 
ing  before  noon  with  all  the  receipts,  and  some 
thing  like  $20  left  over.  The  world  did  not 
look  so  dark  and  dreary  to  him  now.  In  his 
mind's  eye  he  saw  himself  rehabilitated  in  the 
sight  of  the  scoffers,  prospering  ere  long  to 
such  an  extent  that  not  only  would  he  be  able 
to  reclaim  Phoebe,  but  even  Nellie  might  be 
persuaded  to  throw  herself  on  his  neck  and  beg 
for  reinstatement  in  his  good  graces.  With 
men  like  Harvey  the  ill  wind  never  blows  long 
or  steadily ;  it  blows  the  hardest  under  cover  of 
night.  The  sunshine  takes  the  keen,  bitter 
edge  off  it,  and  it  becomes  a  balmy  zephyr. 

Already  he  was  planning  the  readjustment 
of  his  fortunes. 


THE  LAWYER  199 

At  length  the  van  was  loaded.  His  suitcase 
sat  on  the  front  porch,  puny  and  pathetic.  The 
owner  of  the  house  was  there,  superintending 
the  boarding  up  of  the  windows  and  doors. 
Harvey  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  walk,  looking 
on  with  a  strange  yearning  in  his  heart.  All 
of  his  worldly  possessions  reposed  in  that 
humble  bag,  save  the  cotton  umbrella  that  he 
carried  in  his  hand.  A  cotton  umbrella,  with 
the  mercury  down  to  zero ! 

"  "Well,  I'm  sorry  you're  leaving,"  said  the 
owner,  pocketing  the  keys  as  he  came  up  to  the 
little  man.  "  Can  I  give  you  a  lift  in  my  cut 
ter  down  to  the  station?  " 

"  If  it  isn't  too  much  bother,"  said  Harvey, 
blinking  his  eyes  very  rapidly. 

11  You're  going  to  the  city,  I  suppose." 

11  The  city!  " 

"  New  York." 

"  Oh,"  said  Harvey,  wide-eyed  and  thought 
ful,  "  I — I  thought  you  meant  Blakeville.  I'm 
going  out  there  for  a  visit  with  my  Uncle  Peter. 
He's  the  leading  photographer  in  Blakeville. 
My  mother's  brother.  No,  I'm  not  going  to 
New  York.  Not  on  your  life!  " 

All  the  way  to  the  station  he  was  figuring 


200  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

on  how  far  the  twenty  dollars  would  go  toward 
paying  his  fare  to  Blakeville.  How  far  could 
he  ride  on  the  cars,  and  how  far  would  he  have 
to  walk?  And  what  would  his  crabbed  old 
uncle  say  to  an  extended  visit  in  case  he  got 
to  Blakeville  without  accident? 

He  bought  some  cigarettes  at  the  newsstand 
and  sat  down  to  wait  for  the  first  train  to  turn 
up,  westward  bound. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

BLAKEVILLE 

IF  by  any  chance  you  should  happen  to  stop 
off  in  the  sleepy  town  of  Blakeville,  somewhere 
west  of  Chicago,  you  would  be  directed  at  once 
to  the  St.  Nicholas  Hotel,  not  only  the  leading 
hostelry  of  the  city,  but — to  quote  the  adver 
tisement  in  the  local  newspaper — the  principal 
hotel  in  that  Congressional  district.  After 
you  had  been  conducted  to  the  room  with  a 
bath — for  I  am  sure  you  would  insist  on  hav 
ing  it  if  it  were  not  already  occupied,  which 
wouldn't  be  likely — you  would  cross  over  to 
the  window  and  look  out  upon  Main  Street. 
Directly  across  the  way  you  would  observe  a 
show  window  in  which  huge  bottles  filled  with 
red,  yellow,  and  blue  fluids  predominated.  The 
sign  above  the  door  would  tell  you  that  it  was 
a  drug  store,  if  you  needed  anything  more  il 
luminating  than  the  three  big  bottles. 

11  Davis'  drug  store,"  you  would  say  to  your 
wife,  if  she  happened  to  be  with  you,  and  if 

you  have  been  at  all  interested  in  the  history 

201 


202  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

of  Mr. — Mr. — Now,  what  is  his  name? — you 
would  doubtless  add,  "  It  seems  to  me  I  have 
heard  of  the  place  before."  And  then  you 
would  stare  hard  to  see  if  you  could  catch  a 
glimpse  of  the  soda-water  dispenser,  whose 
base  of  operations  was  just  inside  the  door  to 
the  left,  a  marble  structure  that  glistened  with 
white  and  silver,  and  created  within  you  at 
once  a  longing  for  sarsaparilla  or  vanilla  and 
the  delicious  after  effect  of  stinging  gases  com 
ing  up  through  the  nostrils,  not  infrequently 
accompanied  by  tears  of  exquisite  pain — a 
pungent  pain,  if  you  please. 

At  the  rush  periods  of  the  day  you  could  not 
possibly  have  seen  him  for  the  crowd  of  thirsty 
people  who  obstructed  the  view.  Everybody 
in  town  flocked  to  Davis'  for  their  chocolate 
sundaes  and  cherry  phosphates.  Was  not 
Harvey  behind  the  counter  once  more?  With 
all  the  new-fangled  concoctions  from  gay  New 
York,  besides  a  few  novelties  from  Paris,  and 
a  wonderful  assortment  of  what  might  well 
have  been  called  prestidigitatorial  achieve 
ments  ! 

He  had  a  new  way  of  juggling  an  egg  phos 
phate  that  was  worth  going  miles  to  see,  and 


BLAKEVILLE  203 

as  for  the  manner  in  which  he  sprinkled  nut 
meg  over  the  surface — well!  no  Delsartian 
movement  ever  was  so  full  of  grace. 

Yes,  he  was  back  at  the  old  place  in  Davis'. 
For  a  year  and  a  half  he  had  been  there.  So 
prosperous  was  his  first  summer  behind  the 
"  soda  counter  "  that  the  owner  of  the  place 
agreed  with  him  that  the  fountain  could  be 
kept  running  all  winter,  producing  hot  choco 
late,  beef  tea,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  Just 
to  keep  the  customers  from  getting  out  of  the 
habit,  argued  Harvey  in  support  of  his  plan — 
and  his  job. 

You  may  be  interested  to  learn  how  he  came 
back  to  Blakeville.  He  was  a  fortnight  getting 
there  from  Tarrytown.  His  railroad  ticket 
carried  him  to  Cleveland.  From  that  city  he 
walked  to  Chicago,  his  purpose  being  to  save  a 
few  dollars  so  that  he  might  ride  into  Blake 
ville.  His  feet  were  so  sore  and  swollen  when 
he  finally  hobbled  into  his  Uncle  Peter's  art 
studio,  on  Main  Street,  that  he  couldn't  get  his 
shoes  on  for  forty-eight  hours  after  once  taking 
them  off.  He  confessed  to  a  bit  of  high  living 
in  his  time,  lugubriously  admitting  to  his  uncle 
that  he  feared  he  had  a  touch  of  the  gout.  He 


204  WHAT'S-HIS-NAME 

was  subject  to  it,  confound  it.  Beastly  thing, 
gout.  But  you  can't  live  on  lobster  and  ter 
rapin  and  champagne  without  paying  the  price. 

His  uncle,  a  crusty  and  unimpressionable 
bachelor,  was  not  long  in  getting  the  truth  out 
of  him.  To  Harvey's  unbounded  surprise  the 
old  photographer  sympathised  with  him.  In 
stead  of  kicking  him  out  he  took  him  to  his 
bosom,  so  to  speak,  and  commiserated  with 
him. 

"  I  feel  just  as  sorry  for  a  married  man, 
Harvey,"  said  he,  "  as  I  do  for  a  half-starved 
dog.  I'm  always  going  out  of  my  way  to  feed 
some  of  these  cast-off  dogs  around  town,  so  why 
shouldn't  I  do  the  same  for  a  poor  devil  of  a 
husband?  I'll  make  you  comfortable  until  you 
get  into  Davis',  but  don't  you  ever  let  on  to 
these  damned  women  that  you're  a  failure,  or 
that  you're  strapped,  or  that  that  measly  little 
wife  of  yours  gave  you  the  sack.  No,  sir !  Ee- 
member  who  you  are.  You  are  my  nephew.  I 
won't  say  as  I'm  proud  of  you,  but,  by  thunder! 
I  don't  want  anybody  in  Blakeville  to  know 
that  I'm  ashamed  of  you.  If  I  feel  that  way 
about  you,  it's  my  own  secret  and  it's  nobody's 
business.  So  you  just  put  on  a  bold  front  and 


BLAKEVILLE  205 

nobody  need  know.  You  can  be  quite  sure  I 
won't  tell  on  you,  to  have  people  saying  that 
my  poor  dead  sister's  boy  wasn't  good  enough 
for  Ell  Barkley  or  any  other  woman  that  ever 
lived. 

"  But  it's  a  lesson  to  you.  Don't — for  God's 
sake,  don't — ever  let  another  one  of  'em  get  her 
claws  on  you !  Here's  ten  dollars.  Go  out  and 
buy  some  ten-cent  cigars  at  Eumley's,  and 
smoke  'em  where  everybody  can  see  you.  Ten- 
centers,  mind  you;  not  two-fers,  the  kind  I 
smoke.  And  get  a  new  pair  of  shoes  at 
Higgs'.  And  invite  me  to  eat  a — an  expensive 
meal  at  the  St.  Nicholas.  It  can't  cost  more'n 
a  dollar,  no  matter  how  much  we  order,  but  you 
can  ask  for  lobster  and  terrapin,  and  raise 
thunder  because  they  haven't  got  'em,  what 
ever  they  are.  Then  in  a  couple  of  days  you 
can  say  you're  going  to  help  me  out  during  the 
busy  season,  soliciting  orders  for  crayon  por 
traits.  I'll  board  and  lodge  you  here  and  give 
you  four  dollars  a  week  to  splurge  on.  The 
only  thing  I  ask  in  return  is  that  you'll  tell  peo 
ple  I'm  a  smart  man  for  never  having  married. 
That 'sail!" 

You  may  be  quite  sure  that  Harvey  took  to 


206  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

the  place  as  a  duck  takes  to  water.  Inside  of  a 
week  after  his  arrival — or,  properly  speaking, 
his  appearance  in  Blakeville,  for  you  couldn't 
connect  the  two  on  account  of  the  gout — he  was 
the  most  talked-of,  most  envied  man  in  the 
place.  In  the  cigar  stores,  poolrooms,  and  at 
the  St.  Nicholas  he  was  wont  to  regale 
masculine  Blakeville  with  tales  of  high  life  in 
the  Tenderloin  that  caused  them  to  fairly 
shiver  from  attacks  of  the  imagination,  and 
subsequently  to  go  home  and  tell  their  women 
folk  what  a  gay  Lothario  he  was,  with  the  re 
sult  that  the  interest  in  the  erstwhile  drug 
clerk  spread  to  the  other  sex  with  such  remark 
able  unanimity  that  no  bit  of  gossip  was  com 
plete  without  him.  Every  one  affected  his  so 
ciety,  because  every  one  wanted  to  hear  what 
he  had  to  say  of  the  gay  world  on  Manhattan 
Island;  the  life  behind  the  scenes  of  the  great 
theatres,  the  life  in  the  million  dollar  cafes  and 
hotels,  the  life  in  the  homes  of  fashionable  New 
Yorkers, — with  whom  he  was  on  perfectly  ami 
able  terms, — the  life  in  Wall  Street.  Some  of 
them  wanted  to  know  all  about  Old  Trinity, 
others  were  interested  in  the  literary  atmos 
phere  of  Gotham,  while  others  preferred  to 


BLAKEVILLE  207 

hear  about  the  fashions.  But  the  great  major 
ity  hungered  for  the  details  of  convivial 
escapades — and  he  saw  to  it  that  they  were 
amply  satisfied.  Especially  were  they  inter 
ested  in  stories  concerning  the  genus  "  broiler." 
Oh,  he  was  really  a  devil  of  a  fellow. 

When  the  time  came  for  him  to  begin  his 
work  as  a  solicitor  for  crayon  portraits  his 
reputation  was  such  that  not  only  was  he  able  to 
gain  admittance  to  every  home  visited,  but  he 
was  allowed  to  remain  and  chat  as  long  as  he 
pleased,  sometimes  obtaining  an  order,  but  al 
ways  being  invited  to  call  again  after  the  lady 
of  the  house  had  had  time  to  talk  it  over  with 
her  husband. 

Sometimes  he  would  lie  awake  in  his  bed  try 
ing  in  vain  to  remember  the  tales  he  had  told 
and  wondering  if  the  people  really  believed  him. 
Then  he  was  prone  to  contrast  his  fiction  with 
the  truth  as  he  knew  it,  and  to  blame  himself 
for  not  having  lived  the  brightly  painted  life 
when  he  had  the  opportunity.  He  almost 
wept  when  he  thought  of  what  he  had  missed. 
His  imagination  carried  him  so  far  that  he 
cursed  his  mistaken  rectitude  and  longed  for 
one  lone  and  indelible  reminiscence  which  he 


208  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

could  cherish  as  a  real  tribute  to  that  beautiful 
thing  called  vice ! 

In  answer  to  all  questions  he  announced 
that  poor  Nellie  had  been  advised  to  go  West 
for  her  health.  Of  the  real  situation  he  said 
nothing. 

No  day  passed  that  did  not  bring  with  it  the 
longing  for  a  letter  from  Nellie  or  a  word  from 
Phoebe.  Down  in  his  heart  he  was  grieving. 
He  wanted  them,  both  of  them.  The  hope  that 
Nellie  would  appeal  to  him  for  forgiveness  grew 
smaller  as  the  days  went  by,  and  yet  he  did  not 
let  it  die.  His  loyal  imagination  kept  it  alive, 
fed  it  with  daily  prayers  and  endless  vistas  of 
a  reconstructed  happiness  for  all  of  them. 

Toward  the  end  of  his  first  summer  at  Davis' 
he  was  served  with  the  notice  that  Nellie  had 
instituted  proceedings  against  him  in  Reno.  It 
was  in  the  days  of  Eeno's  early  popularity  as  a 
rest  cure  for  those  suffering  from  marital  mal 
adies  ;  impediments  and  complications  were  not 
so  annoying  as  they  appear  to  be  in  these  latter 
times  of  ours.  There  was  also  a  legal  notice 
printed  in  the  Blakeville  Patriot. 

The  shock  laid  him  up  for  a  couple  of  days. 
If  his  uncle  meant  to  encourage  him  by  main- 


BLAKEVILLE  209 

taming  an  almost  incessant  flow  of  invectives, 
he  made  a  dismal  failure  of  it.  He  couldn't 
convince  the  heartsick  Harvey  that  Nellie  was 
' '  bad  rubbish  ' '  and  that  he  was  lucky  to  be  rid 
of  her.  No  amount  of  cajolery  could  make  him 
believe  that  he  was  a  good  deal  happier  than  he 
had  ever  been  before  in  all  his  life;  he  wasn't 
happy  and  he  couldn't  be  fooled  into  believing 
he  was.  He  was  miserable — desperately  miser 
able.  Looking  back  on  his  futile  attempts  to 
take  his  own  life,  he  realised  now  that  he  had 
missed  two  golden  chances  to  be  supremely 
happy.  How  happy  he  could  be  if  he  were  only 
dead!  He  was  rather  glad,  of  course,  that  he 
failed  with  the  pistol,  because  it  would  have  been 
such  a  gory  way  out  of  it,  but  it  was  very  stupid 
of  him  not  to  have  gone  out  pleasantly — even 
immaculately — by  the  other  route. 

But  it  was  too  late  to  think  of  doing  it  now. 
He  was  under  contract  with  Mrs.  Davis,  Mr. 
Davis  having  passed  on  late  in  the  spring,  and 
he  could  not  desert  the  widow  in  the  midst  of  the 
busy  season.  His  last  commission  as  a  crayon 
solicitor  had  come  through  Mrs.  Davis,  two 
months  after  the  demise  of  Blakeville's  lead 
ing  apothecary.  She  ordered  a  life-size  por- 


210  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

trait  of  her  husband,  to  be  hung  in  the  store, 
and  they  wept  together  over  the  prescription — 
that  is  to  say,  over  the  colour  of  the  cravat  and 
the  shade  of  the  sparse  thatch  that  covered  the 
head  of  the  departed.  Mrs.  Davis  never  was  to 
forget  his  sympathetic  attitude.  She  never 
quite  got  over  explaining  the  oversight  that  had 
deprived  him  of  the  distinction  of  being  one  of 
the  pall-bearers,  but  she  made  up  for  it  in  a 
measure  by  insisting  on  opening  the  soda  foun 
tain  at  least  a  month  earlier  than  was  customary 
the  next  spring,  and  in  other  ways,  as  you  will 
see  later  on. 

Just  as  he  was  beginning  to  rise,  pho3nixlike, 
from  the  ashes  of  his  despond,  the  Patriot  re 
printed  the  full  details  of  Nellie's  complaint  as 
they  appeared  in  a  New  York  daily.  For  a 
brief  spell  he  shrivelled  up  with  shame  and  hor 
ror  ;  he  could  not  look  any  one  in  the  face.  Nel 
lie 's  lawyers  had  made  the  astounding,  out 
rageous  charge  of  infidelity  against  him! 

Infidelity ! 

He  was  stunned. 

But  just  as  he  was  on  the  point  of  resigning 
his  position  in  the  store,  after  six  months  of 
glorious  triumph,  the  business  began  to  pick 


BLAKEVILLE  211 

up  so  tremendously  that  he  wondered  what  had 
got  into  people. 

His  uncle  chucked  him  in  the  ribs  and  called 
him  a  gay  dog !  Men  came  in  and  ordered  sun 
daes  who  had  never  tasted  one  before,  and  they 
all  looked  at  him  in  a  strangely  respectful  way. 
Women  smirked  and  giggled  and  called  him  a 
naughty  fellow,  and  said  they  really  ought  not 
to  let  him  wait  on  them. 

All  of  a  sudden  it  dawned  on  him  that  he  was 
'  *  somebody. ' '  He  was  a  rake ! 

The  New  York  paper  devoted  two  full  col 
umns  to  his  perfidious  behaviour  in  the  Tender 
loin.  For  the  first  time  in  his  life  he  stood  in 
the  limelight.  Nellie  charged  him  with  other 
trifling  things,  such  as  failure  to  provide,  deser 
tion,  cruelty;  but  none  of  these  was  sufficiently 
blighting  to  take  the  edge  off  the  delicious  clause 
which  lifted  him  into  the  seventh  heaven  of  a 
new  found  self-esteem!  His  first  impulse  had 
been  to  cry  out  against  the  diabolical  falsehood, 
to  deny  the  allegation,  to  fight  the  case  to  the 
bitter  end.  But  on  second  thought  he  concluded 
to  maintain  a  dignified  silence,  especially  as  he 
came  to  realise  that  he  now  possessed  a  definite 
entity  not  only  in  Blakeville,  but  in  the  world 


212  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

at  large.  He  was  a  recognised  human  being! 
People  who  had  never  heard  of  him  before  were 
now  saying,  "  What  a  jolly  scamp  he  is !  What 
a  scalawag !  '  Oh,  it  was  good  to  come  into  his 
own,  even  though  he  reached  it  by  a  crooked 
and  heretofore  undesirable  thoroughfare.  Path 
was  not  the  word — it  was  a  thoroughfare,  lined 
by  countless  staring,  admiring  fellow  creatures, 
all  of  whom  pointed  him  out  and  called  him  by 
his  own  name. 

Mothers  cautioned  their  daughters,  command 
ing  them  to  have  nothing  to  do  with  him,  and 
then  went  with  them  to  Davis'  to  see  that  the 
commands  were  obeyed.  Fathers  held  him  up 
to  their  sons  as  a  dreadful  warning,  and  then 
made  it  a  point  to  drop  in  and  tell  him  what  they 
thought  of  him  with  a  sly  wink  that  pleased  and 
never  offended  him. 

He  mildly  protested  against  the  sensational 
charge  when  questioned  about  it,  saying  that 
Nellie  was  mistaken,  that  her  jealousy  led  her 
to  believe  a  lot  of  things  that  were  not  true, 
and  that  he  felt  dreadfully  cut  up  about  the 
whole  business,  as  it  was  likely  to  create  a 
wrong  impression  in  New  York.  Of  course,  he 
went  on,  no  one  in  Blakeville  believed  the  fool- 


BLAKEVILLE  213 

ish  thing!  But  in  New  York — well,  they  were 
likely  to  believe  anything  of  a  fellow  there ! 

He  moved  in  the  very  centre  of  a  great  white 
light.  Keporters  came  in  every  day  and  asked 
him  if  there  was  anything  new,  hoping,  of 
course,  for  fresh  developments  in  the  great 
divorce  case.  Lawyers  dropped  in  to  hint  that 
they  would  like  to  take  care  of  his  interests. 
But  there  never  was  anything  new,  and  his 
New  York  lawyers  were  perfectly  capable  of 
handling  his  affairs,  particularly  as  he  had  de 
cided  to  enter  no  general  denial  to  the  charges. 
He  would  let  her  get  her  divorce  if  she  wanted  it 
so  badly  as  all  that ! 

"  I'd  fight  it,"  said  the  editor  of  the  Patriot, 
counselling  him  one  afternoon. 

"  You  wouldn't  if  you  had  a  child  to  con 
sider,  ' '  said  Harvey,  resignedly,  quite  overlook 
ing  the  fact  that  there  were  nine  growing  chil 
dren  in  the  editor's  household. 

"  She's  too  young  to  know  anything  about 
it,"  argued  the  other,  earnestly. 

Harvey  shook  his  head.  "  You  don't  know 
what  it  is  to  be  a  father,  Mr.  Brinkley.  It's  a 
terrible  responsibility." 

Mr.  Brinkley  snorted.     "  I  should  say  it  is  1  " 


214  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

"  You'd  think  of  your  children  if  your  wife 
sued  you  for  divorce  and  charged  you  with— 

11  I'd  want  my  children  to  know  I  was  in 
nocent,"  broke  in  the  editor,  warmly. 

"  They  wouldn't  believe  it  if  the  lawyers  got 
to  cross-examining  you,"  said  Harvey,  meaning 
well,  but  making  a  secret  enemy  of  Mr.  Brink- 
ley,  who  thought  he  knew  more  of  a  regrettable 
visit  to  Chicago  than  he  pretended. 

Late  in  the  fall  several  important  epoch-mak 
ing  things  happened  to  Harvey.  Nellie  was 
granted  a  divorce  and  the  custody  of  the  child. 
His  uncle  fell  ill  and  died  of  pneumonia,  and  he 
found  himself  the  sole  heir  to  a  thriving  busi 
ness  and  nearly  three  thousand  dollars  in  bank. 
Mrs.  Davis  blandly  proposed  matrimony  to  him, 
now  that  he  was  free  and  she  nearing  the  half 
way  stage  of  mourning. 

He  was  somewhat  dazed  by  these  swift  turns 
of  the  wheel  of  fate. 

His  first  thought  on  coming  into  the  fortune 
was  of  Phoebe,  and  the  opportunities  it  laid 
open  to  him  where  she  was  concerned.  His 
uncle  had  been  dilatory  in  the  matter  of  dying, 
but  his  nephew  did  not  have  it  in  his  kindly 
heart  to  hold  it  up  against  the  old  gentleman. 


BLAKEVILLE  215 

Still,  if  he  had  passed  on  a  fortnight  earlier,  the 
decree  might  have  been  anticipated  by  a  few 
days  and  Phoebe  at  least  saved  for  him.  Seeing 
that  the  poor  old  gentleman  had  to  die  anyway, 
it  seemed  rather  inconsiderate  of  fate  to  put  it 
off  so  long  as  it  did.  As  it  was,  he  would  have 
to  make  the  best  of  it  and  institute  some  sort  of 
proceedings  to  get  possession  of  the  child  for 
half  of  the  year  at  the  shortest. 

He  went  so  far  as  to  slyly  consult  an  im 
pecunious  lawyer  about  the  matter,  with  the  re 
sult  that  a  long  letter  was  sent  to  Nellie  setting 
out  the  facts  and  proposing  an  amicable  ar 
rangement  in  lieu  of  more  sinister  proceedings. 
Harvey  added  a  postscript  to  the  lawyer's 
diplomatic  rigmarole,  conveying  a  plain  hint  to 
Nellie  that,  inasmuch  as  he  was  now  quite  well- 
to-do,  she  might  fare  worse  than  to  come  back 
to  him  and  begin  all  over  again. 

The  letter  was  hardly  on  its  way  to  Eeno, 
with  instructions  to  forward,  when  he  began  to 
experience  a  deep  and  growing  sense  of  shame ; 
it  was  a  pusillanimous  trick  he  was  playing  on 
his  poor  old  woman-hating  uncle.  Contemplat 
ing  a  resumption  of  the  conjugal  state  almost 
before  the  old  gentleman  was  cold  in  his  grave ! 


216  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

It  was  contemptible.  In  no  little  dread  he  won 
dered  if  his  uncle  would  come  back  to  haunt 
him.  There  was,  at  any  rate,  no  getting  away 
from  the  gruesome  conviction,  ludicrous  as  it 
may  seem,  that  he  would  be  responsible  for  the 
brisk  turning  over  of  Uncle  Peter,  if  nothing 
more. 

On  top  of  this  spell  of  uneasiness  came  the 
surprising  proposition  of  Mrs.  Davis.  Between 
the  suspense  of  not  hearing  from  Nellie  and 
the  dread  of  offending  the  dead  he  was  already 
in  a  sharp  state  of  nerves.  But  when  Mrs. 
Davis  gently  confided  to  him  that  she  needed 
a  live  man  to  conduct  her  affairs  without  being 
actuated  by  a  desire  to  earn  a  weekly  salary  he 
was  completely  stupefied. 

"  I'm  afraid  I  don't  understand,  Mrs.  Da 
vis,  ' '  he  said,  beginning  to  perspire  very  freely. 

They  were  seated  in  the  parlour  of  her  house 
in  Brown  Street.  She  had  sent  for  him. 

"  Of  course,  Harvey,  it  is  most  unseemly  of 
me  to  suggest  it  at  the  present  time,  seeing  as  I 
have  only  been  in  mourning  for  three  months, 
but  I  thought  perhaps  you'd  feel  more  settled 
like  if  you  knew  just  what  to  expect  of  me. ' ' 

*  *  Just  what  to  expect  ?  ' ' 


BLAKEVILLE  217 

"  Yes;  so's  you  could  rest  easy  in  your  mind. 
It  would  have  to  be  quite  a  ways  off  yet,  natu 
rally,  so's  people  wouldn't  say  mean  things 
about  us.  They  might,  you  know,  considering 
the  way  you  carried  on  with  women  in  New 
York.  Not  for  the  world  would  I  have  'em  say 
or  even  think  that  anything  had  been  going  on 
between  you  and  me  prior  to  the  time  of  Mr. 
Davis'  death,  but — but  you  know  how  people 
will  talk  if  they  get  a  chance.  For  that  reason  I 
think  we'd  better  wait  until  the  full  period  of 
mourning  is  over.  That's  only  about  a  year 
longer,  and  it  would  stop " 

' '  Are — are  you  asking  me  to — to  marry  you, 
Mrs.  Davis?  "  gasped  Harvey,  clutching  the 
arms  of  the  chair. 

"  Well,  Harvey,"  said  she,  kindly,  "  I  am 
making  it  easy  for  you  to  do  it  yourself." 

"  Holy "  began  he,  but  strangled  back  the 

word  *  *  Mike, ' '  remembering  that  Mrs.  Davis,  a 
devout  church  member,  abhorred  anything  that 
bordered  on  the  profane. 

' '  Holy  what  f ' '  asked  she,  rather  coyly  for  a 
lady  who  was  not  likely  to  see  sixty  again  unless 
reincarnated. 

"  Matrimony,"  he  completed,  as  if  inspired. 


218  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

"  I  know  I  am  a  few  years  older  than  you, 
Harvey,  but  you  are  so  very  much  older  than  I 
in  point  of  experience  that  I  must  seem  a  mere 
girl  to  you.  We  could " 

"  Mrs.  Davis,  I — I  can't  do  it,"  he  blurted 
out,  mopping  his  brow.  "  I  suppose  it  means 
I'll  lose  my  job  in  the  store,  but,  honestly,  I 
can't  do  it.  I'm  much  obliged.  It's  awfully 
nice  of  you  to " 

11  Don't  be  too  hasty,"  said  she,  composedly. 
' '  As  I  said  in  the  beginning,  I  want  some  one  to 
conduct  the  store  in  Mr.  Davis'  place.  But  I 
want  that  person  to  be  part  owner  of  it.  No 
hired  man,  you  understand?  Now,  how  would 
a  new  sign  over  the  door  look,  with  your  name 

right  after  Davis  1  Davis  & — er — er Oh, 

dear  me !  ' ' 

"  I'll— I'll  buy  half  of  the  store,"  floundered 
he.  "I  want  to  buy  a  half  interest." 

"  I  won't  sell,"  said  she,  flatly.  "I'm  deter 
mined  that  the  store  shall  never  go  out  of  the 
family  while  I  am  alive.  There 's  only  one  way 
for  you  to  get  around  that,  and  that's  by  be 
coming  a  part  of  the  family." 

"  Why — why,  Mrs.  Davis,  I'm  only  thirty 
years  old.  You  surely  don't  mean  to  say  you'd 


BLAKEVILLE  219 

— you'd  marry  a  kid  like  me?  Let's  see.  My 
mother,  if  she  was  alive,  wouldn't  be  as  old 
as " 

"  Never  mind!  "  interrupted  she,  with  con 
siderable  asperity.  "  We  won't  discuss  your 
mother,  if  you  please.  Now,  Harvey,  don't  be 
cruel.  I  am  very  fond  of  you.  I  will  overlook 
all  those  scandalous  things  you  did  in  New 
York.  I  can  and  will  close  my  eyes  to  the 
wicked  life  you  led  there.  I  won't  even  ask 
their  names — and  that's  more  than  most  women 
would  promise!  I  won't " 

"  I  can't  do  it,"  he  repeated  two  or  three 
times  in  rapid  succession. 

1 1  Think  it  over,  Harvey  dear, ' '  said  she,  im 
pressively. 

"  I'll  buy  a  half  interest  if  you'll  let  me,  but 
I'll  be  doggoned  if  I'll  marry  a  stepmother  for 
Phoebe,  not  for  the  whole  shebang!  " 

*  *  Stepmother !  ' '  she  repeated,  shrilly.  * '  I 
don't  intend  to  be  a  stepmother!  " 

11  Maybe  I  meant  grandmother,"  he  stam 
mered  in  confusion.  "  I'm  so  rattled." 

"  Nellie  has  got  Phoebe.  She's  not  yours 
any  longer.  How  can  I  be  her  stepmother?  An 
swer  that." 


220  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

"  You  can't,"  said  he,  much  too  promptly. 

1 '  Well,  promise  me  one  thing,  Harvey  dear, ' ' 
she  pleaded;  "  promise  me  you'll  take  a  month 
or  two  to  think  it  over.  We  couldn't  be  mar 
ried  for  a  year,  in  any  event,  so  what's  the  sense 
of  being  in  such  a  hurry  to  settle  the  matter 
definitely?  " 

Harvey  reflected.  He  found  himself  in  a 
very  peculiar  predicament.  He  had  gone 
to  her  house  with  the  avowed  intention  of 
offering  her  three  thousand  dollars  and  the 
studio  in  exchange  for  a  half  interest 
in  the  drug  store.  Now  his  long  cherished 
dream  seemed  to  be  turning  into  a  night 
mare. 

"I  will  think  it  over,"  he  said,  at  last,  in 
secret  desperation.  "  But  can't  you  give  me  a 
year's  option?  " 

"  On  me?  " 

"  On  the  store." 

"  Well,  am  I  not  the  store?  " 

"No  ma'am,"  said  he,  hastily.  "I  can't 
look  at  you  in  that  light.  I  can't  think  of  you 
as  a  drug  store." 

"  I  am  sure  I  would  make  you  a  good  and 
loving  wife,  Harvey.  If  Davis  were  alive  he 


BLAKEVILLE  221 

could  tell  you  how  devoted  I  was  to  him  in  all 
the " 

"  But  that's  just  the  trouble,  he  isn't  alive!  " 
cried  poor  Harvey,  at  his  wits'  end.  "  Give  me 
eight  months." 

"  In  the  meantime  you  will  up  and  marry 
some  one  else.  Half  the  girls  in  town  are  crazy 
— no,  I  won't  say  that,"  she  made  haste  to  in 
terrupt  herself,  suddenly  realising  the  tactless 
ness  of  the  remark.  '  *  Come  up  to  dinner  next 
Sunday  and  we  will  talk  it  over  again.  It  is  the 
best  drug  store  in  Blakeville,  Harvey;  remem 
ber  that." 

"  I  will  remember  it,"  he  said,  blankly,  and 
took  his  departure. 

As  he  passed  Simpson's  book  store  he  dashed 
in  and  bought  a  New  York  dramatic  paper. 
Hurriedly  looking  through  the  route  list  of  com 
panies,  he  found  that  the  "  Up  in  the  Air  " 
company  was  playing  that  week  in  Philadelphia. 
Without  consulting  his  attorney  he  telegraphed 
to  Nellie : — * '  Am  in  trouble.  Uncle  Peter  is 
dead.  Left  me  everything.  Will  you  come 
back?  Harvey." 

The  next  day  he  had  a  wire  from  Nellie, 
charges  collect: — "  If  he  left  you  everything, 


222  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

why  don't  you  pay  for  telegrams  when  you  send 
them?  Nellie." 

He  replied : — *  *  I  was  not  sure  you  were  with 
the  company,-  that 's  why.  Shall  I  come  to  Phil 
adelphia  1  Harvey. ' ' 

Her  answer : — ' '  Not  unless  you  are  looking 
for  more  trouble.  Nellie." 

His  next: — "  There's  a  woman  here  who 
wants  me  to  marry  her.  Won't  you  help  me? 
Harvey. ' ' 

Her  last: — "  There's  a  man  here  who  is  go 
ing  to  marry  me.  Why  don't  you  marry  her? 
Naughty !  Naughty !  Nellie. ' ' 

He  gave  up  in  despair  at  this.  On  Sunday  he 
allowed  Mrs.  Davis  to  bullyrag  him  into  a  tenta 
tive  engagement.  Then  he  began  to  droop.  He 
had  done  a  bit  of  investigating  on  his  own  ac 
count  before  going  up  to  dine  with  her.  She 
had  been  married  to  Davis  forty-two  years  and 
then  he  died.  If  their  only  daughter  had  lived 
she  would  be  forty-one  years  of  age,  and,  if 
married,  would  doubtless  be  the  mother  of  a 
daughter  who  might  also  in  turn  be  the  mother 
of  a  child.  Figuring  back,  he  made  out  that  un 
der  these  circumstances  Mrs.  Davis  might  very 
easily  have  been  a  great-grandmother.  With 


BLAKEVILLE  223 

this  appalling  thought  in  mind,  he  was  quite  firm 
in  his  determination  to  reject  the  old  lady's  pro 
posal.  Mrs.  Davis  taking  Nellie's  place! 
Pretty,  gay,  vivacious  Nellie!  It  was  too  ab 
surd  for  words. 

But  he  went  home  an  engaged  man,  just  the 
same. 

They  were  to  be  married  in  September  of  the 
following  year,  many  months  off. 

That  afternoon  he  saw  a  few  gray  hairs  just 
above  his  ears  and  pulled  them  out.  After  that 
he  looked  for  them  every  day.  It  was  amazing 
how  rapidly  they  increased  despite  his  efforts 
to  exterminate  them.  He  began  to  grow  care 
less  in  the  matter  of  dress.  His  much  talked  of 
checked  suits  and  lavender  waistcoats  took  on 
spots  and  creases;  his  gaudy  neckties  became 
soiled  and  frayed;  his  fancy  Newmarket  over 
coat,  the  like  of  which  was  only  to  be  seen  in 
Blakeville  when  some  travelling  theatrical 
troupe  came  to  town,  looked  seedy,  unbrushed, 
and  sadly  wrinkled.  He  forgot  to  shave  for 
days  at  a  time. 

His  only  excuse  to  himself  was,  What's  the 
use? 

During  the  holidays,  in  the  midst  of  a  cheer- 


224  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

ful  season  of  buying  presents  for  Phoebe — and 
a  bracelet  for  Nellie — he  saw  in  the  Patriot,  un 
der  big  headlines,  the  thing  that  served  as  the 
last  straw  for  his  already  sagging  back.  The 
announcement  was  being  made  in  all  the  metro 
politan  newspapers  that  "  Nellie  Duluth,  the 
most  popular  and  the  most  beautiful  of  all  the 
comic  opera  stars,"  was  to  quit  the  stage  for 
ever  on  the  first  of  the  year  to  become  the  wife 
of  "  the  great  financier,  L.  Z.  Fairfax,  long  a 
devoted  admirer." 

The  happy  couple  were  to  spend  the  honey 
moon  on  the  groom's  yacht,  sailing  in  February 
for  an  extended  cruise  of  the  Mediterranean 
and  other  "  sunny  waters  of  the  globe,"  pri 
marily  for  pleasure  but  actually  in  the  hope  of 
restoring  Miss  Duluth  to  her  normal  state  of 
health.  A  breakdown,  brought  on  no  doubt  by 
the  publicity  attending  her  divorce  a  few  months 
earlier,  made  it  absolutely  imperative,  said  the 
newspapers,  for  her  to  give  up  the  arduous  work 
of  her  chosen  profession. 

Harvey  did  not  send  the  bracelet  to  her. 

•  •  •  »  •  •  • 

The  long  winter  passed.  Spring  came  and  in 
its  turn  gave  way  to  summer.  September  drew 


BLAKEVILLE  225 

on  apace.  He  went  about  with  an  ever  increas 
ing  tendency  to  look  at  the  wall  calendar  with  a 
fixed  stare  when  he  should  have  been  pay 
ing  attention  to  the  congratulations  that 
came  to  him  from  the  opposite  side  of  the 
counter  or  showcase.  His  baby-blue  eyes 
wore  the  mournful,  distressed  look  of  an 
offending  dog;  his  once  trim  little  moustache 
drooped  over  the  corners  of  his  mouth;  his 
shoulders  sagged  and  his  feet  shuffled  as  he 
walked. 

' '  Harvey, ' '  said  Mrs.  Davis,  not  more  than  a 
fortnight  before  the  wedding  day,  "  You  look 
terribly  peaked.  You  must  perk  up  for  the 
wedding. ' ' 

"I'm  going  into  a  decline,"  he  said,  affecting 
a  slight  cough. 

'  *  You  are  going  to  decline !  ' '  she  shrilled,  in 
her  high,  querulous  voice. 

"  I  said  *  into,'  Minerva,"  he  explained, 
dully. 

"  I  do  believe  I'm  getting  a  bit  deaf,"  she 
said,  pronouncing  it  "  deef." 

"  It  will  be  mighty  tough  on  you  if  I  should 
suddenly  go  into  quick  consumption,"  said  he, 
somewhat  hopefully. 


226  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

"  You  mustn't  think  of  such  a  thing,  dearie," 
she  protested. 

"  No,"  said  he,  letting  his  shoulders  sag 
again.  "  I  suppose  it's  no  use." 

Just  a  week  to  the  day  before  the  6th  of  Sep 
tember — the  one  numeral  on  the  calendar  he 
could  see  with  his  eyes  closed — he  shuffled  over 
to  the  tailor's  to  try  on  the  new  Prince  Albert 
coat  and  striped  trousers  that  Mrs.  Davis  was 
giving  him  for  a  wedding  present.  He  puffed 
weakly  at  the  cigarette  that  hung  from  his  lips 
and  stared  at  the  window  without  the  slightest 
interest  in  what  was  going  on  outside. 

A  new  train  of  thought  was  taking  shape  in 
his  brain,  as  yet  rather  indefinite  and  unde 
veloped,  but  quite  engaging  as  a  matter  for  con 
templation. 

"  Do  you  know  how  far  it  is  to  Reno?  " 
he  asked  of  the  tailor,  who  paused  in  the 
process  of  ripping  off  the  collar  of  the  new 
coat. 

11  Couple  of  thousand  miles,  I  guess.  Why?  " 

"  Oh,  nothing,"  said  Harvey,  blinking  his 
eyes  curiously.  "  I  just  asked." 

"  You're  not  thinking  of  going  out  there,  are 
you?  " 


BLAKEVILLE  227 

"  My  health  isn't  what  it  ought  to  be,"  said 
Harvey,  staring  westward  over  the  roof  of  the 
church  down  the  street.  "  If  I  don't  get  better 
I  may  have  to  go  West." 

"  Gee,  is  it  as  bad  as  all  that?  " 

Harvey's  lips  parted  to  give  utterance  to  a 
vigorous  response,  but  he  caught  himself  up  in 
time. 

"  Maybe  it  won't  amount  to  anything,"  he 
said,  noncommittally.  "  I  Ve  got  a  little  cough, 
that's  all."  He  coughed  obligingly,  in  the  way 
of  illustration. 

"  Don't  wait  too  long,"  advised  the  kindly 
tailor.  "  If  you  get  after  it  in  time  it  can  be 
checked,  they  say,  although  I  don't  believe  it. 
In  the  family!  " 

* '  Not  yet, ' '  said  his  customer,  absently.  ' '  A 
week  from  to-day. ' '  A  reflection  which  puzzled 
the  tailor  vastly. 

Whatever  may  have  been  in  Harvey's  mind 
at  the  moment  was  swept  away  forever  by  the 
sudden  appearance  in  the  shop  door  of  Bobby 
Nixon,  the  *  *  boy  ' '  at  Davis '. 

"  Say,  Harvey,"  bawled  the  lad,  "  come  on, 
quick !  Mrs.  Davis  is  over  at  the  store  and  she's 
red-headed  because  you've  been  away  for 


228  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

more'n  an  hour.  She's  got  a  telegram  from 
some'eres  and " 

' '  A  telegram !  ' '  gasped  Harvey,  turning 
pale.  "  Who  from?  " 

"  How  should  I  know?  "  shouted  Bobby. 
"  But  she's  got  blood  in  her  eye,  you  can  bet  on 
that." 

Harvey  did  not  wait  for  the  tailor  to  strip  the 
skeleton  of  the  Prince  Albert  from  his  back,  but 
dashed  out  of  the  shop  in  wild  haste. 

Mrs.  Davis  was  behind  the  prescription  coun 
ter.  She  had  been  weeping.  At  the  sight  of 
him  she  burst  into  fresh  lamentations. 

"  Oh,  Harvey,  I've  got  terrible  news  for  you 
— just  terrible !  But  I  won't  put  up  with  it !  I 
won't  have  it !  It's  abominable !  She  ought  to 
be  tarred  and  feathered  and " 

Harvey  began  to  tremble. 

11  Somebody's  doing  it  for  a  joke,  Mrs. 
Davis,"  he  gulped.  "  I  swear  to  goodness  I 
never  had  a  thing  to  do  with  a  woman  in  all  my 
life.  Nobody's  got  a  claim  on  me,  honest 
to " 

"  What  are  you  talking  about,  Harvey?  "  de 
manded  Mrs.  Davis,  wide-eyed. 

"  What  does  it  say?  "  cried  he,  pulling  him- 


BLAKEVILLE  229 

self  up  with  a  jerk.  "I'm  innocent,  whatever 
it  is." 

"  It's  from  your  wife,"  said  Mrs.  Davis, 
shaking  the  envelope  in  his  face.  "  Eead  it! 
Bead  the  awful  thing ! ' ' 

"  From — from  Nellie?  "  he  gasped. 

"Yes,  Eller!    Eead  it!" 

* '  Hold  it  still !  I  can't  read  it  if  you  jiggle  it 
around " 

She  held  the  envelope  under  his  nose. 

"  Do  you  see  who  it's  addressed  to?  "  she 
grated  out.  *  *  To  me,  as  your  wife.  '  She 
thinks  I'm  already  married  to  you.  Eead  that 
name  there,  Harvey." 

He  read  the  name  on  the  envelope  in  a  sort 
of  stupefaction.  Then  she  whisked  the  mes 
sage  out  and  handed  it  to  him,  plumping  herself 
down  in  a  chair  to  fan  herself  vigorously  while 
the  prescription  clerk  hastened  to  renew  his 
ministrations  with  the  ammonia  bottle,  a  task 
that  had  been  set  to  him  some  time  prior  to  the 
advent  of  Harvey. 

Suddenly  Harvey  gave  a  squeal  of  joy  and 
instituted  a  series  of  hops  and  bounds  that 
threatened  to  create  havoc  in  the  narrow,  bottle- 
encircled  space  behind  the  prescription  wall. 


230  WHAT'S-HIS-NAME 

He  danced  up  and  down,  waving  the  telegram 
on  high,  the  tails  of  his  half-finished  wedding 
garment  doing  a  mad  obbligato  to  the  tune  of 
his  nimble  legs. 

"  Harvey!  "  shrieked  Mrs.  Davis,  aghast. 

"  Yi-i-i!  "  rang  out  his  ear-splitting  yell. 
Pedestrians  half  a  block  away  heard  it  and  felt 
sorry  for  Mrs.  Wiggs,  the  unhappy  wife  of  the 
town  sot,  who,  it  went  without  saying,  must  be 
on  another  "  toot." 

' '  Harvey !  ' '  cried  the  poor  lady  once  more. 

"  She's  going  to  faint!  "  shouted  the  pre 
scription  clerk  in  consternation. 

1 1  Let  her !  Let  her !  ' '  whooped  Harvey. 
"It's  all  right,  Joe !  Let  her  faint  if  she  wants 
to." 

"I'm  not  going  to  faint!  "  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Davis,  struggling  to  her  feet  and  pushing  Joe 
away.  "  Keep  quiet,  Harvey!  Do  you  want 
customers  to  think  you're  crazy?  Give  me  that 
telegram.  I'll  attend  to  that.  I'll  answer  it 
mighty  quick,  let  me  tell  you.  Give  it  to  me. ' ' 

Harvey  sobered  almost  instantly.  His  jaw 
fell.  The  look  in  her  face  took  all  the  joy  out 
of  his. 

"  Isn't — isn't  it  great,  Minerva?  "  he  mur- 


BLAKEVILLE  231 

mured,  as  lie  allowed  her  to  snatch,  the  message 
from  his  unresisting  fingers. 

She  glared  at  him.  "  Great?  Why,  you 
don't  think  for  a  moment  that  I'll  have  the  brat 
in  my  house,  do  you  1  Great  ?  I  don 't  see  what 
you  can  be  thinking  of,  Harvey.  You  must  be 
clean  out  of  your  head.  I  should  say  it  ain't 
great.  It's  perfectly  outrageous.  Where's  the 
telegraph  office,  Joe?  I'll  show  the  dreadful 
little  wretch  that  she  can't  shunt  her  child  off 
on  me  for  support.  Not  much.  Where  is  it, 
Joe?  Didn't  you  hear  what  I  asked?  " 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  acknowledged  Joe,  blankly. 

"  You  can't  be  mean  enough — I  should  say 
you  don't  mean  to  tell  her  we  won't  take 
Phoebe?  "  gasped  Harvey,  blinking  rapidly. 
"  Surely  you  can't  be  so  hard-hearted  as 
all " 

"  That  will  do,  Harvey,"  said  she,  sternly. 
"  Don't  let  me  hear  another  word  out  of  you. 
The  idea!  Just  as  soon  as  she  thinks  you're 
safely  married  to  some  one  who  can  give  that 
child  a  home  she  up  and  tries  to  get  rid  of  her. 
The  shameless  thing!  No,  sir-ree!  She  can't 
shuffle  her  brat  off  on  me.  Not  if  I  know  what 
I'm " 


232  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

She  fell  back  in  alarm.  The  telegram  flut 
tered  to  the  floor.  Harvey  was  standing  in 
front  of  her,  shaking  his  fist  under  her  nose,  his 
face  contorted  by  a  spasm  of  fury. 

"  Don't  you  call  my  little  girl  a  brat,"  he 
sputtered.  '  *  And  don 't  you  dare  to  call  my 
wife  a  shameless  thing?  " 

"  Your  wife!  "  she  gasped. 

He  waved  his  arms  like  a  windmill. 

' '  My  widow,  if  you  are  going  to  be  so  darned 
particular  about  it,"  he  shouted,  inanely. 
"  Don't  you  dare  send  a  telegram  saying 
Phoebe  can't  come  and  live  with  her  father.  I 
won't  have  it.  She's  coming  just  as  fast  as  I 
can  get  her  here.  Hurray !  ' ' 

Mrs.  Davis  lost  all  of  her  sternness.  She  dis 
solved  into  tears. 

11  Oh,  Harvey  dear,  do  you  really  and  truly 
want  that  child  back  again?  "  she  sniffled. 

11  Do  I!  "  he  barked.  "  My  God,  I  should 
say  I  do!  And  say,  I'd  give  my  soul  if  I 
could  get  Nellie  back,  too.  How  do  you  like 
that?  " 

The  poor  woman  was  ready  to  fall  on  her 
knees  to  him. 

"  For  Heaven's   sake — for   my   sake — don't 


BLAKEVILLE  233 

speak  of  such  a  thing.  Don't  try  to  get  her 
back.  Promise  me !  I'll  let  the  child  come,  but 
— oh!  don't  take  Nellie  back.  It  would  break 
my  heart.  I  just  couldn't  have  her  around,  not 
if  I  tried  my " 

Harvey  stared,  open-mouthed.  "  I  didn't 
mean  that  I'd  like  to  have  you  take  her  back, 
Minerva.  You  haven 't  anything  to  do  with  it. ' ' 

She  stiffened.  "  Well,  if  I  haven't,  I'd  like 
to  know  who  has.  It's  my  house,  isn't  it?  " 

11  Don't  make  a  scene,  Minerva,"  he  begged, 
suddenly  aware  of  the  presence  of  a  curious 
crowd  in  the  front  part  of  the  store.  "  Go 
home  and  I'll  send  the  telegram.  And  say,  if 
I  were  you,  I'd  go  out  the  back  way." 

"  And  just  to  think,  it's  only  a  week  till  the 
wedding  day,"  she  choked  out. 

"  We  can  put  it  off,"  he  made  haste  to  say. 

"  I  know  I  shall  positively  hate  that  child," 
said  she,  overlooking  his  generous  offer.  "  I 
will  be  a  real  stepmother  to  her,  you  mark  my 
words.  You  can  let  her  come  if  you  want  to, 
Harvey,  but  you  mustn't  expect  me  to  treat  her 
as  anything  but  a — a — an  orphan."  She  was  a 
bit  mixed  in  her  nouns. 

A  brilliant  idea  struck  him. 


234  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

"  You'd  better  be  nice  to  her,  Mrs.  Davis, 
if  you  know  what's  good  for  you.  Now,  don't 
flare  up!  You  mustn't  forget  you've  broken 
the  law  by  opening  a  telegram  not  intended 
for  you." 

"  What?" 

"  It  isn't  addressed  to  you,"  he  said,  ex 
amining  the  envelope.  "  Your  name  is  still 
Mrs.  Davis,  isn't  it?  " 

"  Of  course  it  is." 

' '  Well,  then,  what  in  thunder  did  you  open  a 
telegram  addressed  to  my  wife  for?  That's  my 
wife's  name,  not  yours." 

"  But,"  she  began,  vastly  perplexed,  "  but 
it  was  meant  for  me." 

"  How  do  you  know?  "  he  demanded. 

Her  eyes  bulged.  "  You — you  don't  mean 
that  there  is  another  one,  Harvey?  ' 

He  winked  with  grave  deliberateness. 
"  That's  for  you  to  find  out." 

He  darted  through  the  back  door  into  the 
alley,  just  as  she  collapsed  in  the  prescription- 
ist's  arms.  In  the  telegraph  office  he  read  and 
re-read  the  message,  his  eyes  aglow.  It  was 
from  Nellie  and  came  from  New  York,  dated 
Friday,  the  first. 


BLAKEVILLE  235 

"  Am  sending  Phoebe  to  Blakeville  next  Monday  to  make  her 
home  with  you  and  Harvey.  Letter  to-day  explains  all.  Have 
Harvey  meet  her  in  Chicago  Tuesday,  four  P.M.,  Lake  Shore." 

He  scratched  his  chin  reflectively. 

"  I  guess  it  don't  call  for  an  answer,  after 
all,"  he  said  as  much  to  himself  as  to  the 
operator. 

Nellie's  letter  came  the  next  afternoon,  ad 
dressed  to  Harvey.  In  a  state  of  great  excite 
ment  he  broke  the  seal  and  read  the  poignant 
missive  with  eyes  that  were  glazed  with  won 
der  and — something  even  more  potent. 

She  began  by  saying  that  she  supposed  he 
was  happily  married,  and  wished  him  all  the 
luck  in  the  world.  Then  she  came  abruptly  to 
the  point,  as  she  always  did: — "  I  am  in  such 
poor  health  that  the  doctors  say  I  shall  have  to 
go  to  Arizona  at  once.  I  am  good  for  about 
six  months  longer  at  the  outside,  they  say.  Not 
half  that  long  if  I  stay  in  this  climate.  Maybe 
111  get  well  if  I  go  out  there.  I'm  not  very 
keen  about  dying.  I  hate  dead  things;  don't 
you?  Now  about  Phoebe.  She's  been  pining 
for  you  all  these  months.  She  doesn't  like  Mr. 
Fairfax,  and  he's  not  very  strong  for  her.  To 
be  perfectly  honest,  he  doesn't  want  her  about. 
She's  not  his,  and  he  hasn't  much  use  for  any- 


236  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

thing  or  anybody  that  doesn't'  belong  to  him. 
I've  got  so  that  I  can't  stand  it,  Harvey.  The 
poor  little  kiddie  is  so  miserably  unhappy,  and 
I'm  not  strong  enough  to  get  out  and  work  for 
her  as  I  used  to.  I  would  if  I  could.  I  think 
Fairfax  is  sick  of  the  whole  thing.  He  didn't 
count  on  me  going  under  as  I  have.  He  hasn't 
been  near  me  for  a  month,  but  he  says  it's  be 
cause  he  hates  the  sight  of  Phoebe.  I  wonder. 
It  wasn't  that  way  a  couple  of  years  ago.  But 
I'm  different  now.  You  wouldn't  know  me, 
I'm  that  thin  and  skinny.  I  hate  the  word,  but 
that's  what  I  am.  The  doctors  have  ordered 
me  to  a  little  place  out  in  Arizona.  I've  got 
to  do  what  they  say,  and  what  Fairfax  says. 
It's  the  jumping-off  place.  So  I'm  leaving  in 
a  day  or  two  with  Rachel.  My  husband  says 
he  can't  leave  his  business,  but  I'm  not  such 
a  fool  as  he  thinks.  I  won't  say  anything  more 
about  him,  except  that  he  hasn't  the  courage 
to  watch  me  go  down  by  inches. 

11  I  can't  leave  Phoebe  with  him  and  I  don't 
think  it  best  to  have  her  with  me.  She  ought 
to  be  spared  all  that.  She's  so  young,  Harvey. 
She'd  never  forget.  You  love  her,  and  she 
adores  you.  I'm  giving  her  back  to  you. 


yy  "^f.    '         "      Copyright,  1911,  by  Dodd,  Mead  &  Company 

/ 

He  stopped,  aghast,  petrified 


BLAKEVILLE  237 

Don't — oh,  please  don't,  ever  let  her  leave 
Blakeville!  I  wish  I  had  never  left  it,  much 
as  I  hate  it.  I  remember  your  new  wife  as  be 
ing  a  kind,  simple-hearted  woman.  She  will 
be  good  to  my  little  girl,  I  know,  because  she 
is  yours  as  well.  If  I  could  get  my  health  back, 
I'd  work  my  heart  out  trying  to  support  her, 
but  it's  out  of  the  question.  I  have  nothing  to 
give  her,  Harvey,  and  I  simply  will  not  let 
Fairfax  provide  for  her.  Do  you  understand? 
Or  are  you  as  stupid  and  simple  as  you  always 
were?  And  as  tender-hearted?  " 

There  was  more,  but  Harvey's  eyes  were  so 
full  of  tears  he  could  not  read. 

He  was  waiting  in  the  Lake  Shore  station 
when  the  train  pulled  in  on  Tuesday.  His  legs 
were  trembling  like  two  reeds  in  the  wind  and 
his  teeth  chattered  with  the  chill  of  a  great 
excitement.  Out  of  the  blur  that  obscured  his 
vision  bounded  a  small  figure,  almost  toppling 
him  over  as  it  clutched  his  not  too  stable  legs 
and  shrieked  something  that  must  have  pleased 
him  vastly,  for  he  giggled  and  chortled  like  one 
gone  daft  with  joy. 

A  soulless  guard  tapped  him  on  the  shoulder 


238  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

and  gruffly  ordered  him  to  ' '  get  off  to  one  side 
with  the  kid,"  he  was  blocking  the  exit — and 
flooding  it,  he  added  after  a  peep  at  Harvey's 
streaming  eyes. 

Rachel,  tall  and  sardonic,  stood  patiently  by 
until  the  little  man  recovered  from  his 
ecstasies. 

' '  I  thought  you  were  staying  with  my — with 
Mrs.  Fairfax,"  he  said,  gazing  at  her  in  amaze 
ment.  He  was  holding  Phoebe  in  his  arms,  and 
she  was  so  heavy  that  his  face  was  purple  from 
the  exertion. 

"  You'd  better  put  her  down,"  said  Eachel, 
mildly.  "  She's  not  a  baby  any  longer."  With 
that  she  proceeded  to  pull  the  child's  skirts 
down  over  the  unnecessarily  exposed  pink  legs. 
Harvey  was  not  loath  to  set  her  down,  a  bit 
abruptly  if  the  truth  must  be  told.  "  Mrs. 
Fairfax  is  still  in  the  drawing-room,  sir.  She 
doesn't  want  to  get  off  until  the  crowd  has 
moved  out." 

Harvey  stared.     "  She's — on — the — train?  ' 

"  We  change  for  the  Santa  Fe,  which  leaves 
this  evening  for  the  West.  I'll  go  back  to  her 
now.  The  way  is  quite  clear,  I  think.  Good 
bye,  Phoebe.  Be  a  good " 


BLAKEVILLE  239 

"  I'm  going  with  you!  "  cried  Harvey, 
breathlessly.  "  Take  me  to  the  car." 

Rachel  hesitated.  "  You  will  be  surprised, 
sir,  when  you  see  her.  She's  very  frail, 
and " 

' '  Come  on !    Take  me  to  my  wife  at  once !  ' ' 

"  You  forget,  sir.  She  is  not  your  wife 
any " 

1 '  Oh,  Lordy,  Lordy !  ' '  fell  dismally  from  his 
lips. 

"  And  you  have  a  new  wife,  I  hear.  So,  if 
I  were  you,  I'd  avoid  a  scene  if " 

But  he  was  through  the  gate,  dragging 
Phoebe  after  him.  Eachel  could  not  keep  up 
with  them.  The  eager  little  girl  led  him  to 
the  right  car  and  he  scurried  up  the  steps, 
bursting  into  drawing-room  B  an  instant 
later. 

Nellie,  wrapped  in  a  thick  garment,  was  lying 
back  in  the  corner  of  the  seat,  her  small,  white 
face  with  its  great  dark  eyes  standing  out  with 
ghastly  clearness  against  the  collar  of  the 
ulster  that  almost  enveloped  her  head. 

He  stopped,  aghast,  petrified. 

11  Oh,  Nellie!  "  he  wailed. 

She   betrayed   no    surprise.     A   wan   smile 


240  WHAT  'S-HIS-NAME 

transfigured  her  thin  face.  With  an  effort  she 
extended  a  small  gloved  hand.  He  grasped  it 
and  found  there  was  so  little  of  it  that  it 
seemed  lost  in  his  palm.  The  sweat  broke  out 
on  his  forehead.  He  could  not  speak.  This 
was  Nellie! 

Her  voice  was  low  and  husky. 

"  Good-bye,  Harvey.  Be  good  to  Phoebe, 
old  fellow." 

He  choked  up  and  could  only  nod  his  head. 

"  We  can  get  out  now,  Mrs.  Fairfax,"  said 
Eachel,  appearing  at  the  door.  '  *  Do  you  think 
you  can  walk,  or  shall  I  call  for  a " 

"  Oh,  I  can  walk,"  said  Nellie,  with  a  touch 
of  her  old  raillery.  "  I'm  not  that  far  gone. 
Good-bye,  Harvey.  Didn't  you  hear  me?  Don't 
stand  there  watching  me  like  that.  It's  bad 
enough  without " 

He  turned  on  Eachel  furiously. 

"  Where  is  that  damned  Fairfax?  Why  isn't 
he  here  with  her?  The  dog!  " 

"Hush,  Harvey!  " 

"  He's  mean  to  mamma,"  broke  in  Phoebe, 
in  her  high  treble.  ' '  I  hate  him.  And  so  does 
mamma.  Don't  you,  mamma?  " 

"  Phoebe!     Be  quiet!  " 


BLAKEVILLE  241 

11  Where  is  he?  "  repeated  Harvey,  shaking 
his  finger  in  Eachel's  face. 

1  i  What  are  you  blaming  me  for  1  ' '  demanded 
the  maid,  indignantly.  "  Everybody  blames 
me  for  everything.  He's  in  New  York,  that's 
where  he  is.  Now,  you  get  out  of  here !  ' 

She  actually  shoved  him  out  into  the  aisle, 
where  he  stood  trembling  and  uncertain,  while 
she  assisted  her  mistress  to  her  feet  and  led 
her  haltingly  toward  the  exit. 

Nellie  looked  back  over  her  shoulder  at  him, 
quite  coquettishly.  She  shook  her  head  at  him 
in  mild  derision. 

' '  My,  what  a  fire-eater  my  little  Harvey  has 
become,"  she  said.  He  barely  heard  the  words. 
"  Your  new  wife  must  be  scared  half  out  of 
her  wits  all  the  time." 

He  sprang  to  her  side,  gently  taking  her  arm 
in  his  hand.  She  lurched  toward  him  ever  so 
slightly.  He  felt  the  weight  of  her  on  his  arm 
and  marvelled  that  she  was  so  much  lighter 
than  Phoebe. 

"I'm  not  married,  Nellie  dear!  "  he  cried. 
"It's  not  to  be  till  Friday.  You  got  the  date 
wrong.  And  it  won't  be  Friday,  either.  No,  sir! 
I'm  not  going  to  let  you  go  all  the  way  out  there 


242  WHAT'S-HIS-NAME 

alone.  I  said  I'd  look  out  for  you  when  we 
were  married,  and  I'm  going  to.  You've  got  a 
husband,  but  what  good  is  he  to  you?  He's  a 
brute.  Yes,  sir;  I'm  going  with  you  and  I 
don't  give  a  cuss  who  knows  it.  See  here !  See 
this  wad  of  bills?  Well,  by  jingo,  there's  more 
than  three  thousand  dollars  there.  I  drew  it 
out  this  morning  to  give  to  you  if  you  were 
hard  up.  I — — 

' '  Oh,  Harvey,  what  a  perfect  fool  you  are !  ' : 
she  cried,  tears  in  her  eyes.  '  *  You  always  were 
a  fool.  Now  you  are  a  bigger  one  than  ever. 
Go  away,  please!  I  can  get  along  all  right. 
Fairfax  is  paying  for  everything.  Put  that 
roll  away!  Do  you  want  to  be  held  up  right 
here  in  the  station?  " 

"  And  I've  still  got  the  photograph  gallery," 
he  went  on.  "It's  rented  and  I  get  $40  a  month 
out  of  it.  I'll  take  care  of  you,  Nellie.  I'll  see 
you  safely  out  there.  Then  maybe  I'll  have  to 
come  back  and  marry  old  Mrs.  Davis,  God  help 
me!  I  hate  to  think  of  it,  but  she's  got  her 
mind  set  on  it.  I  don't  believe  I  can  get  out  of 
it.  But  she'll  have  to  postpone  it,  I  can  tell 
you  that,  whether  she  likes  it  or  not.  Maybe 
she'll  call  it  off  when  she  hears  I've  eloped  with 


BLAKEVILLE  243 

another  man's  wife.  She  thinks  I'm  a  perfect 
scamp  with  women,  anyway,  and  this  may  turn 
her  dead  against  me.  Gee,  I  hope  it  does !  Say, 
let  me  go  along  with  you,  Nellie;  please  do. 
You  and  I  won't  call  it  an  elopement,  but  maybe 
she  will  and  that  would  save  me.  And  that 
beast  of  a  Fairfax  won't  care,  so  what's  the 
harm?  " 

"  No,"  said  Nellie,  looking  at  him  queerly. 
"  Fairfax  won't  care.  You  can  be  sure  of 
that." 

"  Then  I'm  with  you,  Nellie!  "  he  shouted. 

11  You  are  a  perfectly  dreadful  fool,  Har 
vey,"  she  said,  huskily. 

"  I  know  it!  "  he  exclaimed. 


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